A Duke by Default: Dangerous Dukes Vol 3

by Wendy Soliman

  Amidst a flurry of lacy petticoats and enticing glimpses of silk stockings, he deposited her on her bed.

  ‘I suppose,’ he said, leaning over her and attempting to look particularly severe, ‘there is not the remotest possibility of your going directly to sleep.’

  ‘Well, it is possible, I suppose.’

  Marc rolled his eyes. ‘But about as likely as Freddie not terrorising the ducks on the river.’

  At the sound of his name and his favourite sport, Freddie looked up from his snooze in front of the fire, yapped, wagged his tail and promptly went back to sleep. But sleep was clearly the furthest thing from Harriet’s mind. The minx smiled up at him from beneath a sweep of thick lashes, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief and something more fundamental.

  ‘Ring for Martha, if you please. I need her help to prepare for the bed you seem so determined to banish me to.’

  She was pretending to send him away which, of course, was the surest means of keeping him beside her.

  ‘I shall be your lady’s maid,’ he told her with a martyred sigh, not missing the spark of triumph that flitted through her eyes. ‘You are provocative enough to tempt a saint.’

  ‘Am I?’ She blinked. ‘Is that a bad thing to be?’

  ‘Unspeakable.’ He lowered her bodice and nibbled at her bare shoulder.

  ‘I rather enjoy passion,’ she said, again twisting her fingers in his hair. ‘I wish I had discovered it sooner.’

  He chuckled. ‘I feel privileged to be the one who awoke it in you. Now, tell me how this makes you feel.’

  She threw back her head and closed her eyes. ‘I feel a subliminal excitement surge through me. It completely consumes me to the point where I can’t think of anything else.’

  ‘That’s good.’ He nuzzled her neck, nipping gently at her earlobe. ‘What else do you feel?’

  ‘I feel as if I’m floating outside of my own body.’ Her eyes flew open. ‘Does that make sense? I feel completely at one with you and almost ashamed of my aching need for fulfilment.’

  ‘Never apologise for your passion, Harri.’

  ‘Since we appear to be playing truth and dare, now it’s your turn.’ Her small fingers gently massaged his back. ‘Why are you so afraid to give yourself more fully to me?’

  ‘You know why.’

  He looked away from her, fearful of what she would see in his eyes. A silent brittleness settled upon them, more telling than a thousand words. The air crackled with a tension that Marc had no idea how to dispel. Harriet required consolation and cosseting, that much was evident. Gentle words of reassurance would undoubtedly make her see reason. But he dare not risk it; didn’t trust himself to let go of his emotions to that extent.

  Marc chanced a glance in her direction. The stricken set to her features caused a prescient fear to grip him, making him wonder if he had set something in motion he was no longer able to control. It was then that he accepted just how difficult he would find it to carry on if he were to lose Harriet’s respect or, worse, the regard she clearly felt for him. With the exception of his cousin Jonathan, he couldn’t recall a time when anyone had truly cared for him, simply for himself rather than for what he could do for them.

  ‘You have as much of me as I am able to give you, Harri,’ he whispered softly. ‘More than I’ve ever given anyone else. It will have to be enough.’

  When she still made no response and he observed tears squeezing out from beneath her lashes, he knew there was only one way to distract her from her belief that love and matrimony went hand in hand. She quickly became caught up in the excitement as his fingers delved and probed, touching her only briefly before he retreated, generating squeals of frustration as he deliberately made her wait. Any lingering doubts about his constancy clearly fled her mind as passion claimed her. Marc was empowered by the sound of her abandoned cries and the sight of her head flung back as, eyes muddy with passion, she found her escape.

  They lay together afterwards, side by side but already strangely detached.

  ‘Must you return to Matlock House tonight?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, I must go. We will leave as soon as the household has settled down. I shall take Giles and Swift with me but you will be in no danger. Not even Sanderson would attempt to harm you while you are at Endersby.’

  ‘It’s not my welfare that concerns me.’

  He pretended to be insulted. ‘You have a very poor opinion of your husband’s ability to defend himself.’

  ‘I have been on the receiving end of those blaggards’ anger and they are no respecters of rank or authority.’

  He gently brushed the hair from her brow. ‘As if I could forget.’

  ‘Well, if you must go, keep your mind on what you need to do and don’t worry about me. I have plenty of company here.’ She paused. ‘Your cousin Katherine’s civility is a pleasant surprise.’

  ‘Don’t be taken in by her. She will have her own reasons for befriending you.’

  Harriet bridled. ‘It hasn’t occurred to you that she may simply like me for myself?’

  ‘Katherine is cunning and manipulative and rarely does anything without a reason.’ He snorted. ‘Take it from one who knows.’

  ‘Stop being such a crosspatch. Perhaps she has decided that what can’t be changed must be endured. You are head of her family and can bestow your bounty where you see fit. Katherine is no fool and must realise that. She would do well to remember it too, since I get the impression that her husband and money seldom keep one another company for long.’

  Marc twitched an eyebrow. ‘You are very perceptive.’

  ‘Anyway, don’t waste precious time worrying about Katherine. She will soon be gone. Now, go to sleep. I will wake you when it’s time for you to leave. Promise me you will come to me when you return in the morning and let me know how it went.’

  Marc, Giles, and Swift hadn’t been at Matlock House for long when someone approached, not the house itself but the cider mill. On silent feet, Marc and his companions approached that building. They peered through the window and, thanks to the intruders’ lanterns, saw Binstead and two others approaching the barrels loaded onto a cart ready for transportation to London the next day.

  ‘What are they looking for, Marc?’ Giles asked in an whisper.

  Marc flapped a hand to silence his friend. He suspected what their purpose was but had no wish to apprehend them until he could be sure.

  ‘Mark the barrels carefully,’ they heard Binstead say. ‘We don’t want any mistakes.’

  The men did their work swiftly.

  ‘Damn Broadstairs, may he rot in hell,’ Binstead complained. ‘Who the devil does he think he is, warning me off his property? The day has yet to dawn when some wet-behind-the-ears aristo can get the better of Jeremiah Binstead. I shall continue with my profitable little trade and get the tasty Mrs. Aston to accept my proposal an’ all. Then I’ll be the boss here and Broadstairs won’t be able to do a thing about it.’ He paused as they closed the heavy barn door behind them. ‘You know, I wasn’t too happy when he proposed to the Aston girl but I can see now that it’ll work out for the best.’

  ‘How will you be the boss?’ his henchman asked. ‘It’s Broadstairs’s estate, after all.’

  ‘Because, numbskull, Mrs. Aston is legally entitled to remain here until the day she dies. As her husband I can simply take over the business, which’ll give me respectable cover to run our little sideline without recourse to strong-arm tactics. The Aston girl disliked me and would have warned her mother away from me but she has other duties to occupy her now. She’ll see less of her mother and will lose interest in cider production altogether once she has babies to occupy her time with.’

  ‘Ah, right enough.’ The man removed his cap and scratched his head. ‘What I don’t understand is how you persuaded Aston to go along with your scheme in the first place.’

  Binstead tapped the side of his nose. ‘Never you mind about that.’

  The trio walked out of earshot, leavin
g Marc and his companions gratefully stretching their cramped limbs.

  ‘What in the name of Hades is going on, Marc?’ Giles asked.

  Marc scowled. ‘I’m willing to wager that when we open the barrels they’ve marked, we’ll find them full of stolen property.’ He strode into the mill. ‘Let’s see if I am right.’

  ‘If that’s his game, how did he persuade Aston to go along with him when he was alive? Oh, I say!’ Giles gazed with astonishment upon the assorted treasures concealed within the barrel they’d just opened.

  ‘I assume he somehow got wind of Harriet’s true parentage and used it to coerce Aston.’

  ‘That would have caused embarrassment for the then duke, but what was the harm in the world knowing once he died? Or why didn’t he just tell your uncle and allow his to deal with the rogue?’

  ‘I don’t suppose we shall ever know.’ Marc shrugged. ‘I recall Harriet saying her father’s friendship with Binstead waned during the latter part of his life and that Binstead was no longer welcome at Matlock House.’

  ‘By God, you don’t suppose Binstead had anything to do with Aston’s demise, do you?’ Giles asked.

  ‘It is impossible to say. Aston got involved, and couldn’t back out when my uncle died because he was already in too deep. But if he tried to…well, I wouldn’t put anything past Binstead.’ Marc reached for some empty apple sacks. ‘Come, gentlemen, help me unload this cargo and replace it with apples. I’ll have Davidson arrange for the barrels in question to be kept under observation when unloaded in London. That way we can apprehend the entire gang.’

  Chapter Twenty-One

  To Harriet’s immense relief, Marc returned to her chamber at first light, dusty, tired and smelling of apples but physically unharmed. She listened in stunned disbelief as he held her hand and told her everything he’d discovered at Matlock House.

  ‘Poor Papa,’ she said, covering her mouth with one hand. ‘Why ever did he get involved? Binstead must have forced him somehow.’ Her shock rapidly gave way to anger. ‘I knew that man wasn’t to be trusted; I just knew it.’

  ‘Well, he won’t be at leisure to bother anyone for much longer.’

  ‘Why did you not take him in charge immediately?’

  ‘Your barrels will be followed to London. I want to catch everyone involved.’

  ‘Yes, that makes sense.’ She puffed out her cheeks, endeavouring to rein in her violent emotions. ‘You ought to sleep. You look exhausted.’

  ‘My valet is preparing a bath for me. I shall leave you to rest and see you later.’

  He kissed her brow and disappeared. She barely saw him for the rest of the day, during which she spent as much time with his cousin Katherine as she did with her own family. Marc was quite wrong about her. She was charming and agreeable and if she disapproved of her union with Marc, she hid it well. Her desire to heal the rift between Marc and the rest of her family might have been driven by money, but that hardly signified. Although Marc pretended indifference, she knew he disliked being at odds with his aunt. If Harriet could help to facilitate a reconciliation, she would be happy to do so. For that reason, she was perfectly prepared to give Katherine the benefit of the doubt.

  Marc sought her out when she was alone in her chamber in the middle of the afternoon. He dismissed Martha, led her to the window embrasure and sat beside her.

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked, his look a tender caress. ‘You had another bad shock this morning.’

  ‘I am recovered from that, although I said nothing to Mama. She isn’t strong enough to withstand bad news. Have you heard anything more?’

  ‘Yes, that’s what I came to tell you.’ Anxious as she was to know, Harriet experienced a moment’s regret that he hadn’t come to see her simply because he was desirous of her company. ‘Your barrels were followed to their ultimate destination in London, where they were intercepted. The rogues waiting for them are employed by a moneylender in Rosemary Lane, who was the brains behind the operation. Apparently, he was responsible for the disappearance of the real Binstead and the introduction of his impostor.’

  ‘And what of Binstead?’

  ‘He’s now in custody here in Kent and singing his heart out. He found out my uncle was your father.’ Harriet gasped, causing Marc to close his fingers firmly over hers. ‘It’s a measure of your father’s affection for you that he fell in with Binstead’s scheme rather than have that intelligence made public.’

  ‘Oh, Papa!’ She shook her head. ‘Why didn’t he go to Uncle Frederick?’

  ‘I suspect pride held him back. That and love for you and your mother. He protected you both in the only way that he could.’

  Harriet blinked back tears. ‘How did he discover the truth about my birth?’

  ‘That’s one of the few points he’s so far refused to clarify. I am told he seems more apprehensive about the consequences of revealing that information than he is about the fate which awaits him at the assizes.’

  ‘You suspect Sanderson?’

  ‘Of course I do, and I shall deal with him in due course. In the meantime, Binstead is now safely incarcerated in Ramsgate gaol. He will soon be vacating that accommodation in favour of Newgate, where he will join his fellow conspirators and answer for his crimes in front of the next session of the assizes.’ Marc paused. ‘He used some of the children at the school he ran here to steal for him. You were right to hold out against your brothers being sent there.’

  Harriet shuddered. ‘He’s an evil man.’

  ‘Who will no longer be a threat to you.’ Marc treated her to one of his rare smiles. ‘And I have some good news. That moneylender had your mermaid statue in his home. As promised, you will soon have it back.’

  ‘Thank you.’ She reached up and kissed his cheek. ‘But we still don’t know who attacked me while searching for the cartoons.’

  ‘We shall return to Matlock House again tonight and see if we have any uninvited guests.’

  ‘Must you?’ Some sixth sense screamed at Harriet to stop him from going. ‘We know Sanderson is involved. Simply dismiss him. The cartoons are safe and so am I. I don’t want you to put yourself in harm’s way.’

  ‘You worry too much.’ He stood up, then leaned over and kissed her brow. ‘Get some rest. I shall see you at dinner.’

  Harriet, her mind overflowing with all she had learned, felt tired and dispirited during dinner. Even Katherine remarked upon it, kindly asking her if she felt all right. She retired early, waiting for Marc to join her, as he had promised to do before leaving for Matlock House. She hadn’t expected him to burst into the room with quite so much violence, his face ashen.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked anxiously. ‘Is someone unwell?’

  ‘It’s Binstead,’ he said, grinding his jaw. ‘He’s escaped.’

  ‘Good grief. How did he manage that when he was being so closely guarded?’

  ‘There was a ruckus in Ramsgate docks this evening; a mill which got out of control. The guards from the gaol were called out to help restore order. They were vastly outnumbered but still managed to arrest all the ring leaders.’

  ‘How shocking. But I still don’t see how that could have affected Binstead’s situation.’

  ‘The gaol is small and, in order to house all the new inmates, it was necessary for the gaolers to herd them into the few cells available.’ Marc’s brow creased with an angry frown. ‘During the melee, Binstead simply slipped out unnoticed.’

  Harriet stared at her husband, slack-jawed with shock. ‘Are we in any danger?’

  ‘If the man has an ounce of sense, he’ll be far away from here by now. Besides, he will never get anywhere near Endersby, even if he is stupid enough to try it. I shall post extra sentries, just to be sure.’ Marc sighed. ‘Davidson and I believe the fight in the docks was started as a deliberate diversion.’

  ‘You mean someone intended for Binstead to escape?’ Marc nodded grimly. ‘But who? And why?’

  ‘Binstead was in irons, so he couldn’t ha
ve escaped without assistance. Whoever gave him the information about your parentage in the first place is undoubtedly behind his bid for freedom. That person would be for the gallows too if Binstead eventually revealed his name, as he undoubtedly would if he supposed it would save his worthless skin.’

  ‘You keep saying that person, but we both know it could only be Sanderson. Surely now’s the time to have him taken in charge.’

  ‘I have no proof against the man, other than my dislike and unsupported suspicions. Besides, if it was indeed him, then he wouldn’t risk remaining in the district and would have taken to his heels by now.’ Marc gathered Harriet in his arms and stroked her back with soothing sweeps of his large hands. ‘Have courage, sweetheart. I want whoever attacked you and I can only find out who that was by returning to Matlock House. If it turns out not to be Sanderson, I shall find another way to bring his crimes to public notice.’

  Harriet was forced to be content with such assurances, even though contentment was the very last thing she felt. Tired, frightened and on edge, she tried to hide it from Marc. He already had enough to worry about. When he left her to spend another night at Matlock House she was wracked with concerns for his safety and didn’t sleep well. She was acutely aware of the distinctive masculine scent which lingered in the empty space beside her, causing a lonely ache to wash over her. She curled into a ball in the place Marc had so recently vacated, breathing in the essence of him, attempting to quell her fears as she sought the sleep that still eluded her.

  She was roused from a fitful doze by a tap at the door. Her heart lifted. Dawn was only just breaking but Marc was already safely home. Her fears had been unfounded. Disoriented by sleep, it didn’t occur to her to wonder why Marc was bothering to knock, or why Freddie hadn’t yapped. She smiled at the door, only to stifle her severe disappointment when not Marc but Katherine stood before her, already dressed for the day.