A Mouse for the Duke

by Lynn Landes

  “Lady Sheridan, you are to follow the path between the two dunes,” the driver points.

  “Thank you,” she smiles and hurries forward between the sandy walls. London walks along the well-worn path, her heart pounds in time with the waves crashing onto the shore out of sight.

  Two golden candles flicker in large glass globes signaling the end of her path or beginning of her night. She smiles and steps forward, gasping in delight. Candles glow, dancing inside glass globes, creating a new walkway, guiding her towards a romantic picnic set for two. A blanket set for dinner, with candles surrounding it and mounds of pillows. Declan stands holding a bouquet of flowers and smiling at her.

  Glancing around, she is shocked to realize they are alone! Gently lapping waves creep towards the shore drenching the sand and changing its color. It's her first time visiting a beach or seeing the ocean, but it all fades away when she looks at Declan.

  Bathed in a golden light, she wonders how he can possibly be real? As she reaches the end of the path, she smiles and is shocked when he wipes away a tear streaking down her cheek. “This is amazing, Declan,” she says.

  “I’m glad you think so,” he tugs her forward, kissing her softly and offers her the flowers.

  “You didn’t have to do this,” she whispers, but hugs the flowers close, taking a deep breath.

  “What would you like to do first?” he asks softly.

  “Take off my shoes!” she says without any hesitation.

  His eyes raise, “Really?”

  “I want to feel the sand, is that strange?” she blushes and glances around him towards the shore.

  “Absolutely not,” he grins and kicks off his own dress shoes. “I’ll join you.”

  London laughs as he pulls her forward, and she sits down to take off her boots. “I've dreamt of the ocean, but never seen it.”

  “This is a sound. Actually, that's why we can be here. The energy of the wind off the ocean would be much more forceful.” Declan watches as she kicks off her shoes and draws off her stockings. He grabs her foot, causing her to gasp.

  “How's your leg healing?” he drops to his knee in front of her, and she pulls up her skirt, revealing a pale calf.

  “Better every day,” she shivers as he runs a hand over the faded bruises and rippled skin. “It will scar.”

  “A reminder of your bravery,” he murmurs and pushes back to his feet, offering a hand to help her rise up. “Ready?”

  “Yes,” she grins and allows him to pull her along behind him. The sand is cold and shifts beneath her feet. “It's so cold!” she pulls away from him and walks towards the water. London lifts her skirts and runs while he watches laughing.

  “Come on, Declan!” she calls, his smile fades, and he wishes that he could freeze time. Instead, he takes a mental picture, memorizing the way she looks so carefree and happy.

  London runs forward and stops, watching the sea. Bathed in the rose gold rays of the sunset, she looks to him like a goddess. Lost in the musical rhythm of the waves ebbing and flowing, she smiles.

  Declan moves close enough that she feels him behind her, yet he remains quiet, gifting her the moment to savor. “God is amazing, isn’t he Declan, that he would create this.”

  “I was just thinking the same thing,” his deep voice causes her to turn to face him. He tugs her foreword, and she goes without hesitation.

  A soft kiss, an unspoken promise passes between them, and she rests her head on his chest, allowing him to shelter her from the wind and salty ocean air. “Dinner?”

  “Yes, please,” they walk back slowly hand in hand, and she glances at him. “I will never forget this night, thank you Declan.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replies and guides her back to the picnic.

  The night is spent laughing, eating, and taking long walks along the shore. When she starts shivering, Declan promises to return with her and pulls her towards the carriage. “I'd like to come back for summer and take you on a boat tour of the inlet if you're interested?” he asks.

  “I'd love too. What about the ocean, can we go to the shore before we leave?” she asks as she snuggles into his embrace inside the carriage. Chilled, she seeks his heat, and he wraps a blanket around her shoulders, drawing her into his side.

  “Absolutely, though, I’m not sure you’re fair skin can handle the sun,” he frowns and touches her nose.

  She wrinkles her nose and smiles at him. “I’ll wear a hat,” she leans up and kisses him, capturing his next words. When he pulls back, she frowns, “I think you’ve bewitched me, Declan, I’ve never spent so much time thinking about kissing…”

  “London,” he groans and stops her with his mouth.

  The carriage stops, and they pull apart, breathing hard and looking at each other with surprise. London climbs down, allowing the driver to help her and walks inside without looking back, afraid that if she does, she won't be able to leave him.

  Declan watches her go and smiles softly. He owes his grandfather. Finding a wife was something he didn’t want. Now it’s all he can think about. London is everything he could’ve wished for, if he was bold enough to hope for a woman like her. He sighs and runs a hand through his hair raining sand on the ground.

  “I’m through waiting,” he murmurs as he goes to clean up. Tomorrow they will discuss the future.

  Chapter 28

  “Lady Sheridan, are you sure you don't wish to wait for Lord Sheridan?” Mary asks.

  “No, he's finishing a project today. I've informed him that I'm going to town,” London smiles at her. “I promise it's just a quick trip to the bank, and I'll be back in time for lunch.”

  “If you're certain,” she murmurs and leaves.

  London smiles and wonders if Mary would go back to New York with them. Grabbing her ledger, she grins as she goes over her numbers again. “I can't wait to surprise him,” she thinks as she closes the book and hastens to the waiting carriage.

  Her first stop is the post office to pick up her messages and mail. She doesn’t bother to read it, there’s already a line at the bank.

  Wells Fargo is busy, but judging by the line, it must be good news. Listening to the men who speak freely in front of a woman, she almost laughs, but she takes notes on anything that interests her. As the line moves, she decides to look over her messages.

  The first is from Richard Shaffer, her father's friend. ‘Identity blown. Stop. Hubbard knows. Stop. Advise new name. Stop.’ London’s hand starts to tremble. She slides the note inside her black book and steps forward.

  Don't panic, she tells herself. See the ticker tape, sell the shares, and get home. Remain calm. Everything is fine. When it's finally her turn, she quickly looks at the numbers seeking only what she needs to know and moves away, ignoring the odd looks the men are giving her.

  “Wait here,” she orders the driver and hurries across the street to the post office to send a telegram to Shaffer. “Sell all shares of Sheridan. Stop. R. L. Pearce stays. Stop.”

  What can the Hubbard's possibly do? I didn't do anything illegal London thinks to herself as she steps back outside the shop. The moment the driver spots her, he pulls the carriage around and starts making his way to her.

  “Lady Sheridan, you’re a hard woman to find,” a deep voice says beside her.

  London jumps and turns to look at the stranger beside her. “Do I know you?” she asks. Her heart picks up speed, and he grins, “No ma'am. I’m afraid not, though we do have a mutual friend.”

  A driver pulls up, and relief flickers until she tries to step away from him. He grabs her arm gently, “I need a moment of your time,” he demands and pulls her toward the carriage.

  London shoves her bag at the man, surprising him, and kicks his shin, causing him to shout and release her.

  “Don't touch me,” she hisses, and leaps back out of arms reach, deciding where to strike next when the carriage door flies open.

  “Garcia! I told you not to scare her!” Matthew steps down, and London gasps runnin
g towards him.

  “Matthew? What is going on?” she asks as she takes his hand. Matthew hugs her gently.

  “Everything is alright, this gentleman is with me. Allow me to give you a ride back to the house?” he asks.

  London nods and steps up into the carriage, Matthew follows sitting next to her. She glares at Jonathan when he climbs in with her bag and sits across from her.

  Jonathan offers her bag and stifles a laugh when London snatches it from him with a glare.

  “Forgive me, Lady Sheridan, but I was afraid you were going to bolt,” he says with a wry grin. “I am U. S. Marshall Jonathan Garcia. You can call me Jonathan.”

  “I don’t think so, Marshall. I hope you've learned to not grab a woman so freely,” she turns to Matthews. “Can someone please tell me what's going on? Is Declan okay?” she gasps, and her face goes pale.

  “No, no, he's fine, but it would be better if we all talk together,” Matthew announces. “I was surprised to see you in town. Why are you alone?”

  “Declan is busy. I was going to surprise him,” she explains and glances away, avoiding Jonathan’s eyes. “You’re scaring me, Matthew,” she whispers. “Won’t you tell me what’s going on?” He grips her hand and pats it gently.

  “Soon, I promise. How are you healing?” he asks, and Jonathan’s eyes narrow on her. Matthew turns her hand over, revealing her scarred palm and wrist.

  “How did that happen,” Jonathan demands.

  “Hubbard paid Ryan to burn the shop down, and this young woman saved my life at a cost,” he pats her hand, and Jonathan’s smiles at her obvious embarrassment.

  “Matthew! That’s private,” she whispers and tugs her hand away.

  “How's your leg?” he ignores her statement, and she huffs out a frustrated breath.

  “It’s almost healed. I will have minimal scarring,” she answers.

  “You’ll be relieved to know Lady Sheridan that the person who set the fire has been arrested. He won’t be burning anyone else,” Jonathan announces.

  “Thank you. I will rest easier,” she stops talking when the two men look at each other.

  “We have a great deal to talk about, London,” Matthew says as they arrive home. The carriage pulls to a stop, and Jonathan jumps out to assist Matthew first.

  He turns back to help London down and decides to avoid her wounded hand, opting to grab her around the waist and lifting her to the ground.

  “You certainly have no qualms touching a stranger,” London snaps.

  “I didn’t want to hurt your hand,” he replies with a grin.

  Matthew grins when he hears Declan growl, “It's your own pain you should be worrying about.”

  London whirls around with relief evident on her face. When Declan holds out a hand to her, she doesn't hesitate to run to him. He pulls her into his side, smiling down at her, he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I missed you this morning,” he smiles, and it lights her face.

  “Of course you did, I'm unforgettable,” she laughs at his look of feigned outrage.

  “Stop pawing your bride,” Matthew demands, and London blushes.

  “I'll just make sure tea is brought to the Library.” She hurries inside, leaving the men to follow.

  “Bride?” Jonathan glares at Matthew. “You forgot to mention that part, Sheridan.”

  “Did I?” Matthew grins and stomps past the men into the house. “This old man could use some tea.”

  “U.S. Marshall, Jonathan Garcia,” he flips out his badge, and Declan glares at him.

  “Welcome to my home, Mr. Garcia. I don’t like anyone touching my wife.”

  “That's understandable,” he quips. “Believe me, she let me know too. I have the bruise to prove it.

  “Glad to hear it. My Grandfather is a trouble-maker, I'd watch out for him if I were you.” Declan offers a hand, and they shake.

  “Noted.”

  Chapter 29

  London goes to the kitchen and calls for Mary and the Cook. “Matthew's arrived with a guest, and we will need lunch and tea brought to the sitting room.”

  The cook hurries to the kitchen, and Mary follows her to help her change her dress and freshen up from the day's activities. London changes into a pale blue dress with a white lace overlay.

  “I love this dress, you look stunning, Lady Sheridan,” Mary says.

  “Thank you, can you leave my hair down. Declan loves it down,” she replies.

  “Of course, I can pull the sides up and use these,” she holds out a small box. London stares in shock. “Oh!” she gasps.

  “Lord Sheridan said to surprise you.”

  London opens the box and traces a finger over two identical hair combs. Silver filigree pattern covers a blue sapphire stone in each comb.

  “They are stunning,” she sniffs back tears. “He’s too kind,” she whispers.

  “No, he’s a man in love,” Mary replies.

  London hides her shock as Mary fixes her hair. Stunned, she looks at herself in the mirror as the truth strikes home. She loves him! How did this happen? It's too fast, too soon, she thinks as she walks numbly to the sitting room.

  When she enters, all three men rise to greet her, but London has eyes only for Declan. The truth of Mary's words is reflected in his gaze. His love is shining for her, and it almost causes her to run.

  “London? Are you okay?” he asks, stepping to her side.

  “Of course,” she replies and shoves down the emotions beating at her. She loops her arm through his and greets the guests. Declan can feel the tremors running through her body, but now is not the time to deal with it.

  “London, we have much to talk about, please come sit with an old man and tell me, has my grandson been treating you well?”

  London reluctantly steps away from Declan and sits beside Matthew.

  “He spoils me endlessly,” she smiles up at Declan.

  “Good, he gets that from me,” Matthew smiles while Declan snorts and sits down.

  Jonathan watches the interaction and wonders how they will react to the news he’s bringing.

  “Now, tell us why you’ve come,” Declan demands.

  “First, I will start by telling you that George Hubbard has been arrested,” Matthew glances at Jonathan.

  London listens quietly as Johnathan starts to explain.

  “I've been watching his business practices for some time. Your grandfather gave me the name of the man who set the fire at your warehouse. I was able to find the perpetrator and arrest him. With his testimony, we will be able to bring charges on George for soliciting arson, and more judging by your wounds. Would you consider testifying against him.”

  “No,” London and Declan speak together, causing Matthew to smile.

  “I understand. No matter, we have him on blackmail, fraud and most recently, solicitation for murder,” Jonathan says.

  “Murder? Explain!” Declan demands, turning to the U.S. Marshall.

  “I went undercover, and the Hubbard's solicited a contract to murder your wife.”

  Declan jerks in shock as London grips his hand. “What?”

  He glances uneasily at Declan, “There’s more. They had certain stipulations.”

  “What kind of stipulations?” Declan asks.

  “It shouldn't be spoken of in front of Ladies,” Jonathan declares.

  “I think I have a right to know, Marshall,” London snaps.

  He glances at Declan, who nods slightly.

  “They demanded that Lady Sheridan watch while you die before I took care of her.”

  London gasps and sits in stunned silence, starring at Jonathan. “Why?” she asks hoarsely.

  “That’s where things get strange,” Jonathan glances at Matthew and waits for him to explain.

  Matthew pats her hand, “Tessa blames you for stealing Declan’s affection from her. As well as buying the shares in his business from under them.”

  “It’s true,” London says softly.

  “That's no reason to kill someon
e,” Declan glances at London, who is looking at him with a horrified glance. In her mind, she can see and hear him being tortured by Tessa and George while they laugh.

  “Unfortunately, I could only arrest the husband, Tessa Hubbard has disappeared, for now. That woman is sick,” Jonathan explains. “We feel like she will come after you London and try at the very least to discredit you.”

  London stands slowly, and all the noise fades from her ears. They begin to ring as panic strikes.

  “Excuse me,” London runs from the room, up the stairs, and into her suite. Rattled, she grabs a bag and starts throwing clothes inside. “No,” she mumbles, and rips open a drawer to grab her travel papers. Trembling, she shoves them inside her case and whirls around at a sound behind her.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Declan says from the doorway.

  London ignores him and continues packing. “Our contract is now void.”

  Declan steps inside shutting and locking the door behind him, “I don’t think so, Lady Sheridan,” he states.

  “Don't call me that!” Panicked, she whirls around and looks at him. “If I leave, you'll be safe,” she sobs out.

  “If you leave, I'll be broken,” he grabs her and drags her against his chest. “London,” she covers his mouth with her hand, and she pleads through tears.

  “Don’t say it!” He drags her hands away from his mouth and presses a kiss to her wounded hand.

  “I love you, London Sheridan. I want this charade to end. I want to spend my life with you as my partner, friend, lover, and wife!”

  London shakes her head sobbing openly now, “I can’t! I won’t survive if something happens to you,” she grabs his shirt in her hand and drops her forehead to his chest.

  Declan feels the worry fade as he holds her. Her worry is for his safety. That tells him all he needs to know.

  “It’s too late to let the fear win, London. The Bible says in Deuteronomy 31:6, ‘Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.’