The Duke of Ravens: Regency Hearts Book 3

by Jennifer Monroe

  Quinton took Oliver by the hand and led him inside, the boy glancing over his shoulder and giving his mother a fearful look.

  “Who is he?” Caroline asked.

  “A representative of the magistrates,” Neil explained. “Allow me to do the speaking.”

  She nodded as the man came to a stop in front of them. He appeared to be of the same age as Neil. He dismounted with ease before walking up and grasping Neil’s hand.

  “Thompson,” Neil said with surprising warmth, “we were not expecting a visit from you.”

  The man glanced at Caroline, his lip curled. “Her Grace is here? Rumors have it that some foul deeds have taken place. I must say, based on your appearance, I find them to be true already.”

  Caroline looked down at the coat and breeches she still wore. Her only dress had been left behind at the inn when she left Philip, that was how upset she had been.

  She went to speak, but Neil interrupted her. “You will not speak to her in that manner,” he said with a growl. “She deserves your highest respect.”

  The man snorted. “You old fool! Don’t assume that you can speak to me that way. She’s dressed as a man, an offense of its own.” He turned to Caroline as he placed his gloves in the waistline of his breeches. “And from what I understand, you and your gardener have had some sort of romance while your child was spirited away. Is it true you allowed him to be put in harm’s way?”

  “I-my son was kidnapped,” Caroline said, astonished that this man would put the blame on her. “It was my gardener who helped me find him.”

  “And where is this gardener now?”

  “He is…” Caroline swallowed hard. What would this man think of her when she told him the truth? Yet, he had the power of the Crown behind him. “We left him behind at an inn in Chudleigh. He had been wounded. He…” She turned to Neil and gave him a beseeching look.

  “Thompson,” Neil said in an appeasing tone, “please understand that she did run off with the gardener, but not in the sense that you suggest. She has done no wrong. I demand to know the meaning of this.”

  Mr. Thompson snorted. “By her own admission, she ran off with her gardener and put her son in danger. The man may have fooled her, but nonetheless, the boy was in danger by the choices she made. We will not allow that to happen again.”

  “Neil?” Caroline asked, her heart threatening to strangle her. “What does he mean?”

  Neil waved his hand as if the silence her. “She has not had the benefit of the upbringing that those of us born into nobility has had. Surely you cannot mean to take away her son? I will not have it.”

  The man removed a roll of papers from inside his coat. “The proper documents will be presented to the courts, and within a week, the boy will be taken into our care. My hands are tied, Neil.”

  Tears streamed down Caroline’s face. She never realized how much power the Crown had, but if they could remove a boy from his mother’s care, they had great power indeed. She turned to Neil. “Please,” she pleaded, “is there nothing you can do?”

  “I will take full responsibility for the boy,” Neil said suddenly. “If any harm comes to him, you may take my land, my money, whatever it is you deem adequate, but do not do this, I beg of you.”

  Mr. Thompson shook his head as if in thought. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “The boy cannot be left in the care of a mother who is willing to put his life in danger. The boy is to be a Duke, but he is still too young to assume such responsibility. If she were married, her husband could take on the rights until the boy is of age, but to expect a woman to take on such responsibilities on her own…” The words hung in the air like heavy runs being aired on a line.

  Caroline had to fight down panic. “Do I have no rights?” she asked.

  The man laughed. “Women only have the rights granted to them by their husbands. Why do you think women are not allowed to own their own land? They haven’t the mind for such things.”

  Her mind was clouded with fear, making thinking difficult. Somehow, none of what this man said made any sense.

  However, before she could make any comment, the man said, “Expect myself or one of my associates to return within the week. Failure to produce the boy by then, or any attempt to hide him in any way, will result in swift punishment.”

  “Come,” Neil said to Mr. Thompson. “Let us go inside and talk about this. I’m sure there is something we can do to prevent this from happening.”

  Mr. Thompson seemed to consider this and finally said, “Very well. I suppose you can treat me to a brandy while you’re at it.”

  Neil laughed. “I suppose I can at that.” When they entered the house, Quinton was waiting just inside the door to take the men’s hats. “The butler will see you to the sitting room, Thompson. I will be in there shortly.”

  The man gave him a suspicious stare for a moment and then followed Quinton down the hall.

  “What does he mean to do?” Caroline asked in a low tone. “How can they even consider taking Oliver from me?”

  “I am unsure,” he replied. “It seems that word has reached the magistrates that something has happened, but they are unsure as to what exactly transpired. I have seen this before, although it’s rare.”

  “Seen what?”

  “A child removed from a home where his or her safety is in question.”

  Caroline gasped. “So, they actually mean to take him away from me?”

  Neil nodded. “That is exactly what he means. And because you are a woman, you have fewer rights than men. Come.” He moved down the hall and she followed behind, though her legs felt as if they had been filled with iron.

  They went to the sitting room, where Mr. Thompson sat in one of the high-backed chairs beside the empty fireplace.

  Neil resumed his pacing. “What if she were to marry?” he asked.

  Mr. Thompson narrowed his eyes. “I suppose if she were to marry, there would be nothing the magistrates could do.”

  “Marry? Why must I marry?”

  He stopped his pacing and stared at her. “Did you not hear what the man said? If you had a husband who could keep you and Oliver safe, there would be no need to remove the boy from his home.”

  Everything had become a jumble in Caroline’s mind. All she had wanted was to return home and take care of Oliver, but now even that seemed impossible.

  Neil snapped his fingers. “I know! We can speak to Mr. Mullens. Perhaps he would be willing to marry you.”

  “Mr. Mullens?” Caroline asked with a gasp. “But, his sister…”

  He gave her a sullen look. “I of all people know that a person cannot be held responsible for what his or her sibling does.”

  “Well, that is true, but…”

  Neil began pacing once again. “No, Mr. Mullens is in France and not due to return for some time now. Even if I tried to contact him, we would not have enough time. With only a week, we find ourselves in a very difficult situation, to say the least.”

  She wanted to scream at him, to pummel him, to tell him that no one would take her son, but he continued his pacing and murmuring, suggesting one idea only to reject it a moment later.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Thompson sat sipping at his brandy and saying nothing.

  “But, Neil…” she tried once more.

  Then he stopped, his eyes growing wide. “Why did I not think of this before?” he said enthusiastically. “Caroline, I want to ask you this only once. Do you wish to keep your son?”

  “Of course,” she replied, aghast.

  “Then we shall save him.” He pursed his lips and squinted. “You and I shall wed in a week’s time.” He turned to Mr. Thompson. “Will that bring this issue to a close?”

  Mr. Thompson seemed to consider the idea. “You must understand that I will continue my investigation regardless. However, it would be a great benefit if Oliver had a male guardian.” He set the now empty glass on a side table and stood. “I will return in one week to bear witness to your ceremony. If it does transpire, I would ag
ree to the boy remaining in the custody of his mother and his male guardian. However, have no doubt, if there is no union, the boy comes with me.”

  “We understand,” Neil said, taking the man’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “And thank you for giving us this opportunity to keep more disaster from this home.”

  Once Mr. Thompson left the room, Caroline sat on the edge of the sofa, the room spinning around her. What had just happened?

  Neil returned from seeing Mr. Thompson to the door and walked up to stand beside Caroline, placing his hand on her shoulder. “There, now, it will all work out for the best. We have saved your son once again.”

  She nodded, although she could not find the words with which to reply. Magistrates, marriage, the threat of her son being taken from her once again, it was all more than she could bear, and she allowed Neil to hold her as she wept, his assurances that all would be well doing nothing to ease her fears.

  ***

  With Oliver now in bed sound asleep and Neil on his way home with the promise to return the following day, Caroline sat on the sofa in the sitting room sipping a glass of wine. She had enjoyed a long bath, and although her body screamed to be abed, her mind was much too active to sleep. So much had transpired over the last week, and with the news today, everything had spun out of control.

  Perhaps the representative of the magistrates, Mr. Thompson, was correct. She had failed to keep Oliver safe, and because of her inability to do so, he had been kidnapped. What if he had been killed? The thought of losing him in such a way tore at her heart, for she could not bear the idea of never seeing him again. Since that day when Miss Lindston had been beaten in order to take away Oliver, she had doubted her abilities as a mother. Mr. Thompson’s proclamation only solidified those doubts.

  She had never heard of children removed from their homes in such a way, but that did not mean it did not happen. There was much she did not know about the world, so she had to trust those who knew the law to help make decisions that would be best for her and her son.

  However, the idea of marrying Neil made her skin crawl. Granted, she was more than thankful for what he had done to help save her and Oliver. If it had not been for him, she would be dead by the hands of Miss Mullens, and Oliver would have been whisked away, raised as the child of that woman and Philip. Her stomach churned simply thinking about it.

  Also, if Neil had not been there when Mr. Thompson had arrived, she would have lost Oliver yet again. It was as if the world had turned against her, wishing her to no longer have her son in her life. Was it trying to tell her that she was not a capable mother? The idea frightened her, for he was the only important thing in her life. If she lost everything—their home, their wealth—she would still be happy as long as she had Oliver. And yet, was that fair to say that Oliver, in turn, would be as happy? He could never lose his title as long as he was alive, but would he be content living in a small cottage with a garden to fill his belly?

  What would it be like to be married to Neil? He had assured her that he had changed, that he was not like his brother had been. Yet, could she trust him?

  Could she not?

  When she asked him about the time that would be necessary to prepare for the marriage ceremony, he had said it would be no issue.

  “I will procure a vicar and prepare the necessary paperwork in time,” he had said. “There are ways around the laws.”

  Despite her words, she faltered. The fact the man could do as he stated was not an issue; men in his position could move mountains, so that was not the reason. The fact of the matter was that she would once again marry for something other than love. Did she not deserve happiness after all she had endured?

  A timid knock on the sitting room door brought her back to the present. Regardless of what she wished, she would go through with the wedding. She would endure this, and worse, if it meant that her son remained with her.

  “Come!” she called as she took a seat on the sofa.

  Her lady’s maid entered and bobbed her a quick, but low, curtsy. “You wished to speak with me?”

  “I did,” Caroline replied. “Come in and close the door behind you. I wish to ask you a few questions, and we do not need any straining ears listening.”

  The woman did as she was told and returned to her place in front of Caroline.

  “You worked for my husband for many years, did you not?” Caroline asked.

  “Yes. Nearly fifteen years now. Before I was your lady’s maid, I worked in the kitchen as an undercook.”

  “You know of what transpired over the past two weeks?” she asked. It was an absurd question, she knew, but it played into her plan. “With my son, that is?”

  “Of course, Madam,” Caroline said with wide eyes. Then she shook her head sadly. “Poor Miss Lindston was in tears about it. She still feels guilty. She’s afraid to return; she’s at her parents’, she is.”

  “Yes, I am aware of her whereabouts. What I would like to know is what you can tell me about Philip Butler.”

  This made Margaret pause. “What do you mean?” The innocence the woman showed could not have been feigned. No, she had not been involved, Caroline was certain of it. However, the woman would know the staff intimately.

  “When Mr. Butler first arrived, I saw him only a few times. What I would like to know was what you observed about the man. Where did he eat? With whom did he speak on a regular basis? Did he seem close to any one person over another?”

  Margaret scrunched her brow as she looked to the floor between them. “Well, since the beginning, he was quiet, but he always kept busy. When others talked with one another—that is to say when they gossiped—he took no part in it.” She paused for a moment and tilted her head. “Well, unless it was about Lord Hayward. I mean His Grace’s brother.” Her eyes shot up at Caroline, wide and fearful. “I don’t mean to speak poorly of anyone, Madam!”

  Caroline studied the woman for a moment. She was hiding something. “You have my word that anything you tell me is in the strictest of confidence. Not only that, but I promise not to be angry with you for whatever it is you tell me.”

  Margaret seemed to battle inside until she gave a firm nod. “See, when His Grace was…you know…unkind to you, I could feel anger rising in Mr. Butler. I…” Her cheeks reddened significantly. “I believe he cares for you. I’ve seen the looks he gives you, and those looks aren’t for a servant typically has for his mistress.”

  Caroline stood and moved to the fireplace. What she wished to do was pace, but she could not be seen as agitated by one of the servants. That much she had learned from Reginald.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you,” Margaret said, looking to the floor once again.

  So, Caroline had not learned her lessons as well as she thought. Much the better, as far as she was concerned. A lofty mistress could take a deep fall if she put herself too high above those around her.

  Caroline walked over and put a hand on Margaret’s shoulder. “You have not upset me,” she said with a smile. “There is no need to worry.”

  Margaret sighed with clear relief and Caroline returned her seat.

  What was it about this man that had Caroline unable to create a clear thought? “I still care for him, though I should not,” she whispered.

  “Beg your pardon?” the maid asked, shock clear in her tone, though she tried to cover it.

  Caroline laughed. Her words had not been for Margaret’s ears, but now that they were out, she could not retrieve them. “Let me explain,” she said. “But first, please, take a seat. My neck is cramping from looking up at you.”

  The poor maid was uncertain what to do, but she sat meekly in the chair across from Caroline, her hands wringing in her lap.

  “You have been good to me during my time here,” Caroline explained. When Margaret went to speak, more than likely in worry judging by the look on her face, Caroline stopped her. “I am going nowhere.” This made the maid relax. “I have no one with whom I can confide, and you have been the closest t
o a friend I have had since I arrived. Therefore, I will tell what I have been through these past days.”

  Having a confidante brought a sense of relief as Caroline told Margaret everything, beginning with the journey to St. Thomas in search of Oliver to the secrecy Philip had maintained to leaving Chudleigh with Neil and finishing with the arrival of Mr. Thompson.

  “So you see, my hand has been forced into marrying Neil this coming Saturday.”

  “Blimey!” Margaret breathed. “Oh, I’m sorry! It just came out.”

  Caroline laughed. “No, it is good to hear someone with an honest response that matches my own.”

  “But that’s six days away,” the maid said with a frown. “Quick if you ask me.”

  “If I do not do this, they will take my son away.”

  Margaret glanced around the room, as if in search of those listening ears, and upon finding none, she leaned in and whispered, “If you wish me to be honest, I don’t believe Lord Hayward. Forgive me for saying so, for I know you’re to marry him and all, but I’ve seen his ways. That woman, Miss French? No, you said her name was not French. Mullens. That’s what you said. Anyway, I think the two of them are in league together if I had my guess.”

  “Did you see them speaking together at any time?” Caroline asked.

  The woman shook her head. “No, nothing like that. It’s just a feeling I have here.” She tapped her chest. “And the way he looked at her was…immoral.”

  Caroline sighed heavily. “I must admit, I found it all odd myself.” Then she remembered something the man had told her. “Though, Neil was held for ransom, as well. Then he stopped Miss Mullens from strangling me. Yet, deep inside, I find that I cannot stop believing that Philip was the honorable party in all this. Am I that much of a horrible person? Or am I too blinded by my own desires to see the truth?”

  “No, Madam,” Margaret said kindly. “Follow your heart. I’ll say this, though. I know nothing of the ton or the laws of marriage—and forgive me for speaking poorly of those of your station—but it doesn’t seem right they can just take away a woman’s child. Not like that, at least.”