The Heir

by Johanna Lindsey

  “Search as in she’s gone missing?”

  Duncan nodded. “She didna return home as expected after leaving here, and her parents got so annoyed with the inquiries made aboot her that they left their London residence as well. Neville has people still looking, but they’re no‘ having any luck.”

  “Sounds like she doesn’t want to be found,” Raphael speculated.

  “I’m aware o‘ that, yet someone must know where she might have gone tae ground. I’ve the addresses o’ her friends and will be—”

  “No doubt wasting your time,” Raphael cut in again. “If she’s hiding, though I can’t imagine why, she won’t let her friends know where she is.”

  Duncan sighed. “I dinna suppose you know anything aboot the lass that might point tae where she could have gone when she left?”

  “Me? I’ve never met the chit, but as it happens, I do know her cousin John Newbolt, who was apparently her escort here. If it were me, I’d be looking for him, since he’s the one she left here with.”

  “He’s gone missing as well, at least I’m told he hasna returned home either.”

  Raphael raised a golden brow at that, but then shook his head and mumbled, more to himself, “No, they are first cousins, they wouldn’t—never mind. At least your grandfather’s people are being thorough, to have looked for him. You should find that reassuring.”

  Duncan nodded, though it was little consolation, when those men hadn’t produced results yet. “Auld Neville is sparing nae expense in this matter, according tae m’grandda Archie.”

  Raphael chuckled. “No, he wouldn’t. I imagine the thought of Ophelia as his granddaughter-in-law has quite horrified him, now he knows what mischief she’s capable of.”

  “I wouldna know,” Duncan replied with a shrug. “I talk tae him as little as possible m’self.”

  “What ho!” Rafe chuckled. “Intimidated, eh? Can’t say as I blame you—”

  “Och, dinna be running off on another tangent. I simply dinna like him.”

  “Your own grandfather? Why?”

  Instead of answering that, which was none of Raphael’s business, Duncan asked, “I dinna suppose you might know where this cousin could be found?”

  Raphael got the point, and after a thoughtful frown, said, “Don’t know him well, just in passing since we belong to the same club, but you know how men will talk—and brag, when there aren’t any women around. I’ve heard he keeps a place in Manchester just for his mistresses, a property he won in a card game. This isn’t unusual, having a place just for your mistress. Many married men do the same. But in this case it struck me funny, since John still lives at home with his mother, and this property in Manchester is the only one he personally owns. You’d think he would have moved into it himself, now wouldn’t you, rather than put his mistresses there. Particularly when it’s so bloody far from London where his mother lives.”

  “But it’d be inappropriate for him tae take his cousin there, aye?”

  “Course it would—unless the place was presently empty.” Raphael shrugged. “Only mentioned it because if I had a young cousin who asked me to take her somewhere that she could hide, as it were, and I had a house that no one in my family was aware of, that would be where I might take her—if it was currently without an occupant. Especially since it’s not that far from here, but is far from London.”

  “Would you be having the address?”

  “Did I say I knew him well?”

  Duncan sighed again, but thought to ask, “How big is this town then?”

  Raphael laughed. “Much too big to be hoping someone on a corner might direct you where you want to go. It’s a bloody city, old chap, not a little town or village.”

  Duncan could have wrung the man’s neck at that point, for getting his hopes up, then shooting them down again. His expression probably said that was what he was thinking, because Raphael took at least one step back.

  But then he grinned cheekily and said, “I could get you out of this mess.”

  “E’en if that were true, which I’m doubting, why would you?”

  “Gads, you needn’t look so suspicious. No ulterior motives, I assure you. I’m just aware that there is another you would prefer to marry.”

  Knowing just how frequently Raphael tended to mention his young sister, Amanda, and that he would probably like to get out of the chore of chaperoning her about, which would only be accomplished by her own marriage, Duncan didn’t doubt that was who he was referring to.

  So he assured him, “You’re wrong, mon. I dinna want tae marry her.”

  “No? Well, knock me over, I really think you mean it.” And then with a sigh of his own, “Very well, so I was wrong. But I’m still willing to help.”

  “How?”

  “By asking Ophelia to marry me instead, of course. I’m probably the only one she would throw you over for.”

  Duncan couldn’t restrain a snort. “That’s a bluidy high opinion you have o‘ yourself, mon, likely tae rival her own opinion o’ herself.”

  Raphael chuckled. “Hardly. We’re talking titles here, which is all she’s really interested in, that and the wealth that comes with them. Don’t make the mistake of thinking it’s actually you she wants. And the title I will be inheriting does happen to be a bit more lofty than yours.”

  “E’en if it might work, which it willna, I couldna ask you tae make such a sacrifice.”

  “What sacrifice? I’m not talking about actually marrying her,” Raphael said with a shudder. “Merely asking her, doing the engaged thing for a bit, then breaking it off. I’ll even do the gentlemanly part and let her do the breaking. Save face and all of that. Then no one’s hurt, you escape this fate worse than death, I get back to my usual pursuits of debauchery and the like, and everyone’s happy.”

  “Except Ophelia, who still has this enemy o‘ hers who can at any time ruin her wi’ the information she has,” Duncan pointed out. “What is tae stop Mavis from spreading her tale if Ophelia doesna marry me? Getting her engaged tae you won’t prevent that, will merely turn the tale into the full-blown scandal we’re trying tae avoid.”

  Raphael frowned, having momentarily overlooked that wrinkle. “Well, hell, you really are in a fix then, aren’t you? So what are you waiting for? Come to think of it, I haven’t been to ManChester in a while myself. Think I’ll join you. Two of us can cover much more area than you can alone. For that matter, let your grandfather know, so he can send his people there as well.”

  Much as Duncan hated to admit it, and he still didn’t like the roundabout way Raphael said things, the man was turning out to be likable after all.

  Chapter Forty

  Sabrina was getting on with her life. She found that if she could keep Duncan out of her mind, she could even laugh again when she felt like it. Of course, it didn’t take much for a spurt of tears to sneak up on her either, but for the most part, she managed to appear her old self as she went about her normal routines.

  There had been one exception when poor Robert Willison had stopped to talk to her on her trek through Oxbow and had been treated to one of her spurts. He’d been so upset when she burst into tears in front of him that he’d gone off to fetch three of his neighbors to help.

  By the time everyone converged on her, though, she had her emotions back in hand and had blamed the tears on a speck of dust that was bothering her eye, and reminded her audience that a good cry was the best way to wash one’s eyes. They’d looked at her as if she were daft, but then, people often did look at her that way when she got into one of her silly moods, so that was nothing out of the ordinary.

  Her aunts had decided she was “recovered” as well, though it had never been discussed just what her malady was. They knew it had to do with Duncan, but by unspoken agreement, they weren’t going to badger her about it. It did come up occasionally, though. How could it not when Duncan’s wedding was still the major topic of the neighborhood, and so it was hard not to mention it?

  But they were back to t
hinking of other gentlemen who might “do” for her, and just last night when they were gathered in the parlor together after dinner, Alice mentioned a newcomer to the neighborhood.

  “Sir Albert Shinwell is his name. He’s building a manor house on the other side of Oxbow near that lovely meadow there. I heard he’s just come into an unexpected inheritance, and decided on Oxbow for his country retreat.”

  Hilary nodded, adding, “People do tend to spend a lot of money when it’s new money. Odd, that, but it happens all the time.”

  “I’ve heard he’s also building in Bath and in Portsmouth. Sounds like it was quite a big inheritance.”

  “He’s not married, nor ever has been,” Hilary put in. “That has been confirmed.”

  “And he’s young,” Alice thought to add. “Not quite thirty yet.”

  Sabrina had no trouble figuring out where the conversation was heading by then. “I’ll get around to meeting him, just do not bring him here to meet me.”

  “We wouldn’t do that, dear, at least I wouldn’t,” Hilary assured her.

  “Which implies I would?” Alice huffed. “I’m not so insensitive to not realize that our gel is not happy over the big wedding next week.”

  “No, just insensitive enough to mention it,” Hilary shot back with a snort.

  Sabrina stood up to get their attention off of bickering before they seriously got into it, and back on her. “It’s all right. You don’t have to tiptoe around me on this subject. It’s true, like Aunt Hilary, I thought something more than just friendship might be occurring between Duncan and me, but I was mistaken. I will get over it. It was more a surprise than anything else, his reengagement to Ophelia, which I am recovered from. Really, I am fine.”

  She left them before she belied that statement with a quivering lip, but the two sisters looked at each other and both knew better.

  “She’s lying.” Hilary sighed. “She’s still quite devastated.”

  “I know.” Alice’s sigh was a bit louder. “I’d like to take a club to—”

  “So would I,” Hilary cut in. “But what would that help? It’s not as if any gel would have a hope of competing with someone like Ophelia, not even one as wonderful as our Sabrina, when men can be such blind idiots.”

  Alice might have giggled at that, if they both weren’t rather despondent over the subject themselves. “Not that it signifies, but it’s just as well, if you ask me. I wasn’t looking forward to being condescended to by that old coot Neville again, if we actually ended up related to him by marriage. He made his sentiments perfectly clear, back when the scandal first broke in our day, that he wanted nothing more to do with our family.”

  “I’m not so sure it was just that,” Hilary replied thoughtfully. “He made a remark to me at the party that led me to think it was more that he was disgusted over what our grandfather did, rather than that a scandal had come of it. He was chummy with him, after all. At least, they used to go hunting together all the time.”

  “What remark?”

  “He asked me if idiocy still ran in the family,” Hilary replied.

  Alice flushed with heated ire that was reflected in her tone as she blustered, “Why, that hypocrite! Who was it let his daughter go off and marry a Highlander, then bemoaned that fact forever after? That was idiocy.”

  Hilary shook her head. “That was a circumstance that couldn’t be helped after she went and fell in love with the man. What he should have done was kept them from meeting in the first place.”

  “You snubbed him, I hope,” Alice replied, still indignant.

  “Of course. But after thinking about it, I was sure he was merely referring to Grandfather shooting himself, which, you’ll have to admit, has been our own opinion from time to time.”

  “Oh, well, all water under the bridge, as it were,” Alice said, then went on to a new complaint. “But you never should have encouraged Sabrina into thinking she had a chance with young Duncan. It’s not as if Neville would have allowed a match between them.”

  “Encourage how?” Hilary glared at her sister. “I have eyes, you know. It was quite obvious the boy was taken with her, though as it turns out, it was merely her friendship that he cherished,” she added with a sigh.

  “Can’t blame him for that,” Alice replied. “She is a joy to be around.”

  “Of course she is. However, you’re wrong in thinking Neville would have objected due to the scandal. He wouldn’t have liked it, but from what I’ve gathered, he just wants a new heir, and quickly. With such haste involved, they can’t exactly afford to be hoity-toity about it.”

  “Sure they can,” Alice disagreed. “That was the point of the gathering. Duncan had more gels to choose from than he needed, and look what happened. He ended up choosing the very one that Neville wanted for him.”

  “But did he choose her?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know Mary Petty’s daughter who is an upstairs maid at Summers Glade? I spoke with her this morning at the cobbler’s. She says her daughter told her that no one at Summers Glade is happy about the upcoming wedding, least of all the bride and the groom.”

  “Neither of them?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Well, that doesn’t make sense. Why are they getting married then?”

  Hilary just raised a supercilious brow that had Alice snorting. “Nonsense. Not a breath of scandal has been hinted at—”

  “Exactly,” Hilary cut in with a smirk. “Forced marriages usually occur to nip a scandal in the bud before it has a chance to get started.”

  “A groundless assumption in this case,” Alice noted. “You are merely guessing.”

  “Common sense—”

  Alice cut in, “Who says you have any?”

  “Humph, talking to you is like talking to a doorknob,” Hilary complained.

  “Implying?”

  “That you can turn the knob, but you still haven’t sense enough to open the door.”

  “Or more than enough sense to know that there is nothing on the other side of the door worth seeing,” Alice shot back triumphantly.

  Hilary conceded. That was a rather nice comeback, after all, and though she’d never say so, she was proud of her sister for thinking of it.

  Chapter Forty-one

  This morning when Sabrina passed through Oxbow on her typical walking route, she had four encounters that pretty much convinced her to give up her old routines, at least for a while. It was one thing to get on with her life if she could avoid thinking about Duncan, but quite another when people inadvertently thrust him into her thoughts. Unfortunately, Duncan, still so new to the neighborhood, was going to be a major topic for a good long time. Sir Albert was also getting his share of gossip now, but Duncan, in line for such a lofty title, was still of more interest.

  The first two encounters each told her that Duncan had gone off to London, most likely to buy his bride a special wedding gift. The third encounter, with old Mrs. Spode, was only slightly different.

  Mrs. Spode was a cantankerous old lady, one of Sabrina’s aunts’ more amusing friends, and she scoffed at the “wedding gift” assumption, whispering to Sabrina that the young lord was more likely off on a last bit of oat sowing in London before the nuptials, especially since Lord Locke, a known rake, had gone with him.

  “Now I ask you, would Lord Locke know where to find wedding gifts, or would he know where to find ladies of ill repute? The latter, of course. If the young lord comes back with a gift, it will be one of those unmentionable diseases.” And the old girl had cackled at her own wit.

  Sabrina did not encourage that conversation, in fact, left Mrs. Spode in what might be considered very rude haste. But before she could get out of town completely, she had her fourth encounter.

  This one was the worst, with Duncan’s grandfather. Not Neville. Him, she probably could have managed quite nicely—if she could have gotten past the shock of finding him in Oxbow. But it was the Scots grandfather who hailed her as he
came out of Oxbow’s combination inn and tavern, the grandfather she hadn’t actually met yet, though he seemed to know her well enough to call her by name.

  “Yer Duncan’s friend Sabrina, aye?” At her nod, he continued, “I had been meaning tae meet ye at Summers Glade, but ye stopped visiting. I’d wondered at that. Most o‘ the other lassies hied it back tae London when they didna win the lad, which was understandable. But ye now—I didna think ye were there for that.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Then why did ye stop coming?”

  The direct question, and in such an accusing tone, caused a blush. Unfortunately, Archibald noticed it and interpreted it correctly.

  “Sae, ‘tis like that, is it? Ye’ve let yerself feel more for the lad than friendship?”

  To admit that, to him in particular, was almost a guarantee that it would get back to Duncan, which, under the circumstances, was the very last thing she wanted. Lying, though, which she abhorred doing but had no choice but to do in this case, caused an even worse blush.

  “That isn’t the case a’tall. Duncan is charming, I like him a lot, but really, just as a friend.”

  His expression was skeptical, even though he went along with her assertion by saying, “Och, I’m glad tae be hearing that. No‘ that ye arena a sweet lass, I’m sure, but ye ken auld Neville was worried aboot the amount o’ time the lad was giving tae ye, and Duncan did assure us o‘ that same thing, that ye are merely a friend, albeit a verra good friend. I’d hazard e’en tae say yer his best friend just now, which is why I found it strange that ye’d desert him in his—”

  “Excuse me?” she cut in, her voice quite stiff now, but because of that “worried about the amount of time” remark, which, of course had to do with her scandal, rather than his last accusation. “How have I deserted him? Just because I was feeling a bit under the weather and kept to my bed for a few days doesn’t mean I have deserted him. And I have spoken to him since the engagement.”