A Duke by Default: Dangerous Dukes Vol 3

by Wendy Soliman

  ‘Yes, Your Grace, but neither has done anything to arouse suspicion. Sanderson is going about his usual business at Endersby, and Jessup is entertaining a large party of guests on his estate. He hasn’t left it once over the past few days.’

  ‘Do you imagine either one of them took part in the break-in personally?’ Giles asked.

  ‘I doubt Jessup would have risked exposing himself but I shouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that Sanderson was involved. Indeed, he’s familiar with the layout of this house and someone with that knowledge must have been a party to the scheme. When Harri is feeling stronger I will ask her if she recognised either of her assailants.’

  Giles stretched his arms above his head. ‘So what now?’

  ‘I do not intend to sit idly back while they plan their next assault, so we must lure them into a trap.’

  ‘What do you have in mind?’

  ‘We believe Jessup’s primary objective is the Hogarth cartoons, agreed?’

  ‘Agreed.’

  ‘And that Sanderson is to receive a commission for locating them.’

  ‘Which means we can anticipate another break-in?’

  ‘I shall be more vigilant on this occasion,’ put in Swift.

  Marc sent him a scathing glance, still not prepared to absolve him from blame, even though the rational part of his brain told him that Swift had acted as fast as he could. ‘Do you imagine I would expose my wife to such dangers a second time?’

  ‘Your Grace, I—’

  ‘I shall inform the staff at Endersby to prepare for the arrival of my wife and her family for a prolonged period as soon as she is well enough to make the journey. Obviously, Sanderson will be one of the first to hear of the plan. I shall make no secret of the fact that she was attacked, even though everyone probably already knows it. I shall tell Sanderson I no longer consider it safe for her family to remain at Matlock House until the villains are apprehended, which is the truth.’

  ‘Leaving Matlock House vacant at night,’ finished Giles. ‘Brilliant! They won’t be able to resist searching for the cartoons.’

  ‘Precisely.’ Marc pursed his lips. ‘The work of the cider mill can proceed uninterrupted during the day but, since none of the workers live on the premises, Sanderson will know the place will be deserted during the hours of darkness.’

  ‘But suppose they discover the cartoons and make off with them, Your Grace?’

  ‘Use your brain, Swift. We shall be here to intercede.’

  ‘But what about Harriet?’ Giles asked. ‘If she’s at Endersby, under Sanderson’s very nose, might he not make another attempt on her life?’

  Marc’s jaw set in a rigid line, an icy blast of anger radiating through his body. ‘I doubt even he would be arrogant enough to attempt it but, as a precaution, I will ensure he can’t get anywhere near her until we’ve seen the matter through.’ Marc shuddered. ‘Goodness knows how. The more I try to protect her, the harder she fights me. However, that’s a problem for later. Right now, I’m off to see Davidson.’

  ‘The magistrate?’ Giles looked surprised. ‘Why?’

  ‘Ah yes, I didn’t have a chance to explain what I learned of Binstead’s history from the magistrate in Whitechapel.’ Marc’s gaze encompassed both his friend and Swift. ‘Binstead, who earned such a glowing reference, was of less than medium height, forty years of age, excessively portly and blessed with a profusion of red whiskers.’

  ‘That description bears no resemblance to our man Binstead,’ Swift replied.

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘So he’s an impostor,’ Giles said. ‘How the devil did he pull that off?’

  ‘How indeed?’ Marc had been asking himself the same question. ‘I described our Binstead to Stevens and he was able to identify him as a ne’er-do-well known as Grayson. He was an assistant to the real Binstead. But after strong suspicions came to light about his involvement with a moneylender in Rosemary Lane, Grayson was dismissed without a character. The delightful Grayson was thought to have recruited a number of the urchins under his control to steal for him but it couldn’t be proven so he was simply dismissed.’

  ‘It’s not uncommon for masters of workhouses to abuse their power in such a manner,’ Giles said. ‘But how did this Grayson come to assume Binstead’s identity?’

  ‘Having had ample time to consider the matter over the past few days, I fear the worst,’ Marc replied. ‘From what Stevens told me of Grayson’s character, he’s a ruthless individual, although not without charm, which he frequently uses to his advantage.’ Marc paused before continuing to articulate his thoughts. ‘If Stevens’s suspicions are correct, he’s backed by a well-organised network of even more ruthless people who let nothing stand in their paths. As you know the London rookeries have been in decline over recent years and a channel port such as Ramsgate would make an excellent alternative location, given the transient nature of the population.’

  ‘Very likely.’ Giles nodded. ‘Many a fat-pocketed nabob returning from a long sea voyage would make easy pickings for a well-trained and fleet-of-foot band of child thieves. Do you suppose Grayson assumed Binstead’s identify in this area for that purpose?’

  ‘It’s a possibility, and one which I shall discuss with Davidson.’

  ‘Even if we are right, it doesn’t explain the impostor’s determination to ingratiate himself with the Aston family,’ Giles pointed out.

  ‘Which is another reason why I plan to remove the family to the safety of Endersby without delay.’ He paused, bestowing a glance of lethal determination upon his companions. ‘I intend to take no further risks when it comes to the well-being of my wife and her family.’

  Harriet, easily tired by her family’s visit, slept for the rest of the afternoon. She was woken by Lady Calder, the doctor at her side.

  ‘Ah, Your Grace. I am delighted to see you awake.’ The doctor glanced anxiously around the room. ‘Your husband is not here?’

  ‘No, you are quite safe,’ Harriet replied, biting her lip to prevent herself from smiling.

  He fussed over her, took her temperature, and changed the dressings on her wound. She winced when she saw the deep gash, now purple with bruising, on her thigh.

  ‘You were very fortunate that the knife didn’t hit any vital arteries.’

  Harriet didn’t feel fortunate. She felt tired and irascible, out of charity with everyone. She wondered why Marc, having stood guard over her so diligently, had now deserted her.

  Lady Calder saw the doctor out then returned to Harriet’s side.

  ‘Now, would you like me to wash you, Harri, and perhaps a change of nightgown would see you more comfortably settled?’

  ‘Thank you, yes.’

  Harriet submitted to her godmother’s ministrations with barely concealed irritation.

  ‘Are you hungry, Harri?’

  ‘I could probably manage something light.’ Harriet wasn’t hungry at all but if she planned to regain sufficient strength to leave this room, she needed to eat.

  ‘Cook is planning something special in the hope of tempting you.’

  No sooner had Lady Calder spoken than a maid entered the room with two laden trays. A delicious smell emanating from beneath the covers assailed Harriet’s nostrils, tempting her jaded palate.

  ‘I can’t eat in bed, Aunt Alicia.’ Harriet pushed the covers aside with determination. ‘Perhaps if you would give me your arm, I could—’

  Harriet attempted to stand and it was only a strong arm circling her waist that prevented her from crumpling to the floor.

  ‘What in the name of Hades is going on here?’ Marc sounded furious.

  ‘I only wanted to sit in the window embrasure to eat my dinner,’ she responded defensively. ‘I wasn’t planning a cross-country horseback ride.’

  ‘And tear your wound open in the process? Back to bed!’

  She turned in the tight circle of his arms, hopping awkwardly on one leg, and matched his determined expression. ‘No!’

  He looked
down at her and shook his head. ‘Have it your way.’

  He swept her into his arms, lifting her so her injured leg didn’t touch his body, and carried her to the window seat. He placed her carefully on it, took the shawl Lady Calder held out to him and draped it around her shoulders before he placed a rug across her knee.

  ‘Satisfied?’ he asked in a tone of mild rebuke.

  ‘Yes, thank you.’ She offered him a serene smile which he countered with a grunt. ‘There appear to be two covers. Are you to dine with me, Aunt?’

  ‘Not I, child.’ Lady Calder’s eyes twinkled as she left the room.

  ‘There’s no reason for you to remain,’ Harriet said, still miffed that Marc hadn’t been near her for hours. ‘You would be more comfortable in the dining room.’

  ‘Perhaps, but we have much to discuss, so you must make the best of the situation.’

  ‘You ask a lot,’ she replied mulishly, wishing he would admit that he was staying because he wanted to, even if it wasn’t true. Knowing he never would.

  Marc pulled the table, upon which their dinner had been placed, a little closer and lifted the covers. ‘Now, what have we here?’

  There was broth for Harriet, lightly poached eggs, and freshly sliced fruit. For Marc, the fare was more substantial and he attacked it with gusto, pausing to pour himself a glass of wine from the decanter that had been sent up with their meal.

  ‘None for you,’ he said, almost smiling. ‘You have done nothing to deserve it.’

  ‘I shall have some if I wish,’ she responded airily. ‘It just so happens that I have no desire for wine.’ Noticing the determined nature of his expression, she deemed it wise not to challenge his authority further and changed the subject. ‘What did you wish to speak to me about?’ she asked instead, picking at her food.

  ‘Are you feeling too tired to discuss the events of the night of the break-in?’

  ‘Not at all, but there is little I can tell you that you don’t already know.’

  ‘There were two men?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you describe them?’

  ‘No, unfortunately I didn’t see either of them clearly. The one who attacked me was enormous, that much I do recall. The second was smaller, but stayed behind his companion, in deep shadow.’

  ‘Did either of them speak?’

  ‘Yes, of course!’ Harriet groaned. ‘Why did I not think of it before? One of them said something like here she comes as I descended the stairs, almost as though they were waiting for me to appear.’

  Marc sat a little straighter. ‘Did they say anything else?’

  Harriet wrinkled her brow, trying to recall. ‘The first one went to address the other by name, but he stopped him. He became very agitated and said no names.’

  ‘Can you recall what name it was the first man started to say? Think carefully, Harri, it could be important.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry, but I cannot.’ She felt frustrated because she was sure she had seen or heard something of consequence but she simply couldn’t remember.

  ‘Stop trying to think and you might recollect something else.’

  ‘Why are you asking me all these questions? Do you think I know the intruders?’

  ‘The possibility occurred to me.’

  ‘Oh, but who…’

  The food, and Marc’s close questioning, had sapped her strength. It was annoying to feel so weak and she fought against it, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

  ‘Come, it’s time for bed.’

  He swept her into his arms and carried her across the room. Tucking the covers about her, he then turned away and removed his coat. His waistcoat followed, then his neckcloth and shirt.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I shall retire, too.’

  Harriet thought she must be hearing things. He had made it clear he didn’t want to get too close now he knew she wasn’t about to die and yet planned to sleep with her. He was so confusing. His mercurial changes of mood brought her headache back.

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Where else? The bed’s wide enough for two. I shall not crowd you.’

  Completely naked and totally unperturbed to be so, he pulled back the covers on the opposite side of the bed and climbed beneath them. Harriet watched him in awe, her lips inexplicably dry all of a sudden, her heart racing.

  ‘Good night.’ He leaned across and kissed her brow.

  ‘I won’t be able to sleep,’ she complained.

  ‘Try counting cider barrels.’

  ‘Very funny.’

  Marc sighed. ‘If my presence so unsettles you, I will sleep in the attic with the boys. Giles and my aunt have commandeered the only other chambers.’

  ‘It’s not your presence that worries me, Marc.’

  ‘Then what?’

  What indeed? ‘You don’t want to be here.’ She manoeuvred herself into a sitting position, wincing at the lancing pain that shot through her thigh. ‘You have just said that you wouldn’t be if there were spare rooms. Do you have any idea how insulting that sounds?’

  He ran a hand through his hair, looking ruffled and very un-ducal. ‘You don’t understand.’

  ‘Do I not?’ She fixed him with an expression of candid appraisal. ‘Then it must be the bang on the head that has dulled my senses. Make me understand. Or better yet, just kiss me and then I will sleep reassured.’

  Marc sighed. ‘If that’s what it will take to silence your nonsense.’

  He pushed her back against her pillows and brushed her lips with his. Harriet was in no mood for half-measures and buried her fingers in his hair, returning his kiss with enthusiasm.

  ‘Harri, behave yourself.’

  ‘If you kissed me properly, I wouldn’t have to misbehave.’ She met his gaze, her expression a flirtatious challenge. ‘Kiss me in the way I know you can. I deserve it after my ordeal.’

  ‘You wouldn’t be using your misfortunes to take advantage of me, would you?’ he asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

  ‘What, me?’ She opened her eyes very wide, trying hard to look innocent. ‘I am sure I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘I can scarce believe we are having this conversation.’ Marc expelled an exasperated sigh. ‘This time yesterday, you were unconscious and feeble as a kitten. Now you wish to debate the quality of my kisses. You are quite insane.’ He traced the line of her lips with his finger, bending his head to kiss the pulse that was beating at the base of her throat. ‘I appear to have chosen the most wilful, disobedient, and contrary female in the whole of England as a wife. How could I have so miscalculated?’

  ‘Yes, I wondered how long it would be before you admitted to your mistake. I did warn you, if you recall, but it’s too late to give me back now.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  Harriet would have been quite discouraged by his disinclination to kiss her, but for his eyes, which once again gave him away. He wanted to kiss her very much and was only holding back because of her injuries. That realisation was empowering. ‘You awoke my passions and can’t now—’

  ‘Oh no!’ He removed his hands from her face as though they had been scorched. ‘Whatever hair-brained scheme you have in mind now, the answer is most definitely no.’

  ‘Just kiss me please, Marc, and be done with it.’

  He sighed, leaned over, and swiftly brushed her lips with his.

  ‘That wasn’t a kiss.’

  ‘You’re not going to give this up, are you?’

  She sent him a dazzling smile. ‘I don’t believe I am.’

  Finally he did a thorough job of devouring her lips, teasing them apart and delving into her mouth with his tongue. Harriet wrapped her arms around his neck and put her heart and soul into returning his kiss, convinced it must lead to something more. To her infinite disappointment, he broke the kiss and removed her hands.

  ‘Enough.’ He lay flat on his back, staring at the ceiling. ‘Now go to sleep.’

  ‘But I’m no longer tired. Perhaps if you were to touch me
, it might help me to relax.’

  ‘Now who’s being insulting? When I touch a lady in bed, I don’t do so with the intention of sending her to sleep.’

  ‘Oh yes, I see what you mean. Well then, perhaps if I were to rest my head on your chest, as I did this afternoon, then we could help one another to sleep. You would have to move a little closer to me, of course.’

  With a martyred sigh, Marc moved into the middle of the bed and circled his wife’s shoulders with his arm. She obediently rested her head on his chest, hiding her triumphant smile by burying her face in his shoulder, and dutifully closed her eyes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  For the next three days it took all Marc’s ingenuity to keep Harriet confined to her chamber. She was recovering with remarkable speed but, unsurprisingly, was becoming bored by her enforced idleness. Frustrated because the doctor wouldn’t allow her to get up until her wounded thigh could sustain her weight, she became short-tempered with everyone. Marc ensured her relations took turns to keep her company, threatening them with dire consequences if they allowed her out of bed.

  Marc only admitted himself to her company when dusk fell. They took their dinner alone in her chamber, retiring at the same time, with Marc doing the best he could to ignore Harriet’s catalogue of complaints. He refused to explain his reasons for keeping her so closely confined. Only when the doctor confirmed that her physical strength was returning and he was satisfied that the intelligence wouldn’t set her back would he reveal some of his suspicions about the reason for the attack.

  Harriet’s recent bizarre behaviour was another reason why Marc was distancing himself from her. He could only surmise the second blow to her head was responsible for the changes in her personality. Harriet, who had been adamantly opposed to marriage, was now using her feminine wiles to try and seduce him. Each night when they retired, she invented reasons for him to hold her, persuading him to kiss her and then, with disquieting exactitude, discussed the nature of the passions he had aroused in her when she offered to take the place of his mistress.

  For some reason she had decided to abandon her role as the biddable wife in this marriage of convenience of theirs, and Marc was finding it increasing difficult to resist her. But still he went to her, each night feeling himself fall a little deeper beneath her thrall, his body pulsating with a need that escalated when she asked him the most outrageous questions about the nature of passion. It couldn’t go on. Marc couldn’t hold out against her for much longer. Once they returned to Endersby she would be safe because no one could get to her there and he could keep his distance. But while they remained at Matlock House, she was still vulnerable, and he couldn’t risk leaving her alone at night.