Loving Tales of Lords and Ladies

by Abigail Agar

  “Oh, I need not a carriage. The apothecary is near, and he promised to wait for me to arrive before closing so that I could retrieve Mum’s medicine,” Anne said with a soft laugh. “You worry so, Dan.”

  Daniel grumbled. “I worry so because you do not seem to worry at all.”

  “Well, you do enough worrying for the lot of us,” Anne told the man as their shoes crunched on the stones of the walkway.

  The couple walked near to Jules and Leander, and Jules held his breath. The two of them did not notice Leander or Jules. After they had made it to the street, Jules whispered, “I did not know that Daniel was courting Anne.”

  “I take great pride in not knowing such things,” Leander responded gruffly. “Bit of a young lass.”

  Jules shrugged. “I know of young women her age that are married. It does happen. Besides, Daniel is not that many years senior to her.”

  “All the more reason they need to let it be,” Leander said with enough aggravation that Jules had to hold in a laugh.

  Being out in the dampness was not pleasant, but Leander’s discomfort at the couple made Jules smile. “You must truly dislike the softer gender the way you are always so against all their plots.”

  “I just think men get too wrapped up in them, and they would be better served looking out for themselves,” Leander replied. The man’s form moved away from the fence, and Jules watched him. “It is like you and your young lady, Your Grace. You are a focused man as not many I have seen, but from the moment you fell in with her, you seem a million miles away.”

  Jules could not discount what the man said altogether, so he simply sighed. He had been distracted, but then was that really so terrible? Dancing with Lady Withersfield would be a good sight better than lurking in the shadows for someone who very likely wanted to finish what they had started when they stabbed him.

  “There is a certain logic and safety in the thoughts of women, Leander.” Jules pursed out his lips. “Here I am waiting in a rather disadvantageous situation for someone who very likely wants to stab me yet again when I could, in turn, be loving the woman that saved my life the first go around. It is a bit of a strange logic that men possess.”

  Leander hummed in dissatisfaction. “You are just nervous. Do you want a smoke to settle yourself, Your Grace?”

  “Yes, actually, I think I would.” The idea of a good puff to calm his frayed nerves was the next best thing to a snifter of brandy that Jules could think of, and the warmth of the rolled cigarettes that Leander often carried with him would be a welcome thing as well.

  Leander turned a little as he fidgeted with his coat. This darkness seemed to be messing with the valet as well, Jules noted. He breathed in the air and caught a bit of that damp smell again. Yes, there was definitely rain somewhere in the wind.

  A clinking noise struck Jules as odd, and he turned just in time to see Leander finally find his pocket and reach in for something. There was something about the movement of the man’s arm that felt wrong to Jules.

  He took an involuntary step backward as he thought about those clogs. Had he mentioned the clogs to Leander? His mind raced. There were other things, little things, but then it had to be the darkness and uncertainty that brought Jules such fevered thoughts.

  Perhaps it all was a fever. Jules begged his mind that it was, for if it were not, then his life was a puppet show as they put on for children. Jules shook his head. “Leander,” he whispered.

  The man gave no indication of having heard Jules at first, and then it seemed as if everything happened at once. The man moved quickly towards Jules, the thing in his hand catching just a bit of the moonlight, but more than enough to show Jules that it was no harmless cigarette. Jules grabbed the arm that Leander struck out at him with, and they tumbled.

  Jules did not know if the man had simply overreached or if he had been so unbalanced that they had toppled, but he knew the moment that he hit the ground. The pain in his side burst and seared. He could feel a warm wetness under his coat. It was with certainty that he knew he had torn the threads that held his skin together, such as they were.

  There was no time to worry about the blood he was losing, for fear of the blade extracting more. Jules put all his strength into prying the blade from Leander’s hand even as the man sought to wrench the blade away. Leaving off pulling on Jules’ hands, Leander assailed Jules with a blow to his injured side, just where the stab wound was.

  Jules cried out in agony, and Leander clamped his hand over his mouth. “Die with some dignity,” Leander spat down at him.

  With desperation, Jules clenched his teeth around the salty flesh of Leander’s hand, causing the man to launch himself away from Jules to pull his hand free. In doing so, Jules managed to wrestle the blade from Leander’s distracted grasp. Jules held his side and pushed himself up to feet that swayed unsteadily.

  “Stop,” Jules panted. “Stop this madness. Why do you do this?”

  Leander was hunched forward like some wild animal, and Jules suddenly did not know this man at all. Who was this thing that had once been his friend? Had Leander ever been his friend?

  The ex-footman growled. “You wouldn’t understand. You could never understand what it is like to have nothing.”

  “But you have everything that I can offer,” Jules said with disbelief. “You live well. What more could you want?”

  Leander barred his teeth and ran at Jules. Jules tried to defend himself, but the shoulder that Leander hit against him, caused him to stumble. Leander managed to grab the hand that held the knife, pushing it downward, causing it to tear into the flesh of Jules’ chest. Jules cried out in pain and lashed back at the man by throwing all his weight at him.

  Jules might have been weakened, but he was still much larger than the scrappy Leander. Leander tried to balance the weight, but Jules’ added weight proved too much for the smaller man, and they tumbled over onto the stones with Leander pinned under Jules. Jules gripped the blade hand tightly while Leander clung to the blade itself in a bid to stop it from pressing into the skin of his neck where Jules held it firmly.

  “Tell me why you do this,” Jules said as he pushed his arm forward to add pressure against Leander’s neck.

  Leander gritted his teeth. “I needed the money.”

  “You would sacrifice not only your good name but your family’s name for money?” Jules stared down at the man in disgust and pity. “Without a good name, a man’s money is worthless.”

  Leander sneered up at Jules. “Only the rich have such a vision of wealth. What good is a man’s word if he is starving?”

  “Have you ever starved?” Jules asked the man in disgust. “You eat the food I pay for, and you drink the drink my credit buys. What do you require that you do not already have?”

  Tears welled up in Leander’s eyes that Jules was not expecting. “I want to be my own man, not owned by someone else. I want to stand on my own feet, and when he offered, I could not refuse.”

  The man’s words hit Jules, and he shook away the indignation that he felt at Leander’s reference to himself as little more than a slave. There were more pressing matters. “Who is it that promised you riches in return for my family’s blood?”

  “It matters not. All that matters is that I am caught,” Leander snapped back.

  Jules did not want to believe that Leander could be behind it all. Yet, here he was. “Tell me it was truly not you who killed my parents?”

  “It was not meant to be them,” Leander said with anguish. “But yes, I did it. I placed those drops in the wine.”

  Jules’ fist tightened around the blade, and he fought to keep himself from pressing further into Leander’s hand. It would do him little good if the man were dead. “Why kill me?”

  “I was paid to,” Leander said defiantly. “Please, I know that you owe me nothing, but spare my life.”

  There were few times in Jules’ life when he truly was faced with a moment where the worst possible outcome was the one he desired, but to see Lea
nder dead for his crimes hardened into his crystal focus. Jules ground out, “Tell me who is behind this.”

  “You know who it is,” Leander growled back. “Lord Portland wanted your father to pay, and he thought that your death would suit that fine.”

  Jules shook his head. “My father never had any harsh dealings with Lord Portland. Was it to get him out of the way of his business?”

  To Jules’ surprise, Leander laughed. “You truly do not know, do you?” Leander shook his head. Jules could feel the movement against his hand as he held the blade handle against Leander’s neck; only the man’s fingers kept the blade’s edge from cutting down into the skin below it.

  “Tell me, or I will forget that your family was once honourable,” Jules promised.

  Leander licked his lips. Jules heard the sound more than saw the movement. The moonlight moved across the ground in odd waves of shadow as the wind swayed the branches overhead. “Promise to let me go, and I swear I will tell you the truth.”

  Jules looked down at the man’s face, dappled in moon shadows. It was hard to read him, but then Jules had done no better in the full light of day. Jules let out a breath and spoke as calmly as he could manage with his blood seeping out of his freshly opened wound. “Tell me the truth, and I will consider it.”

  Leander seemed to be weighing his options before he collapsed back against the stones of the walkway. “Lord Portland came to me with a story. He said that your father had forced himself many years ago upon his sister. I had no way of knowing if this were true or not, but he seemed convinced of it. He wanted to punish your father by making him grieve your loss. What worse horror than having to bury one’s only son?”

  “But my father died instead,” Jules said in agony. “I refused the drink, why did you not intervene?”

  Leander shook his head, his hair lying against the dirt of the stones. “It was too late when I realised what happened. Anne had already served them, and I could not bear to witness it. Your parents were good to me, and my greed caused their deaths.”

  “Yet you attacked me even after my father was gone? What injury could that have caused him?” Jules longed to press the blade into the man and let him feel the pain that seared through Jules even as he spoke, but he knew that he had come too close to the truth to let revenge get in the way of that.

  Leander wept. “I was too far into it. Lord Portland threatened to expose me if I did not carry through. I felt I had little choice.”

  “So you set me up the night of the party,” Jules whispered. He should have seen it, yet he had been so blind. Penelope had seen it, and Jules had been too close to see that something was not right.

  Leander’s voice cracked as if his throat were dry when he spoke. “I sent him a letter telling him that you were not going to stop the investigation. That’s when he concocted the plan to ambush you. It seemed simple, and you were never to know who did it.”

  “Only I did not die that easily,” Jules finished for the man.

  There was silence from the man. His head moved in a nod, but he lay quietly under Jules’ weight. When he finally spoke, Leander asked, “Shall you kill me now?”

  “That remains to be seen,” Jules informed him. “Where is Lord Portland?” The man below Jules did not seem inclined to answer but gasped when Jules brought the knife down towards his throat.

  Leander raised his hands up to ward off the blade. “He is at the Winchester estate. He was going to kill the young lady in case I failed yet again.”

  “Has madness consumed you all? She did nothing!” Jules pushed up off the ground and felt the world sway at the far too quick movement. He steadied himself against the fence row. “Get out of my sight. I swear that if I ever see you again, I will cut you down. The only reason I let you live is that your ancestors were good people. You do them a dishonour with your very presence here.”

  Leander upon hearing Jules’ words scrambled up off the ground, bobbing his head in quick acceptance. Jules watched the man’s form beat a hasty retreat down the pathway towards the streets. He had half a mind to set the guard on him, but Jules would not go back on his word.

  Besides that, he had to get to Penelope. He was a fool to ever let Leander talk him into leaving her side when all the time it had felt wrong to do so. He only prayed that Penelope would have the good sense not to be fooled by Lord Portland into being alone with him.

  He raced towards the house as quickly as he could. Inside, he roused up the carriage driver and stable staff. Clint, one of the senior carriage drivers, swore at the sight of Jules. “What has gotten a hold of you, Your Grace? We shall get a doctor!”

  “There is no time for that,” Jules said as he cut the man off. “I need a carriage to take me to the Winchester estate now!”

  The men looked at each other but did as Jules asked without any further comment. The maids came out of their rooms and peered at the commotion. Charlotte called out, “What is going on?”

  Jules waved for the women to go back to bed. “There’s nothing to be concerned about. I have to leave to go to the Winchester estate.”

  Daniel came racing in from the back door. “Your Grace, I just saw Leander running off in something of a hurry. Is everything well?”

  “Daniel, I might need your assistance,” Jules said in relief when he saw the young man. “Ladies, please, go back to bed, I beg you.” Jules gave Charlotte a smile as he winced when he turned towards her.

  Eva too had come out, and she shrieked as she covered her mouth with her hand. “Your Grace, you are bleeding!”

  Daniel gasped at the sight of blood soaking through Jules’ shirt under his coat. Jules raised his hands to ward off their concern. “Please, I do understand your concern, but Lady Withersfield is in need of my help far more than I need a doctor. Which direction was Leander headed when you saw him, Daniel?”

  Daniel blinked and said, “Oh, he was headed towards the inn, Your Grace. I thought perhaps he was going to their stables to fetch a horse.”

  “He might very well have been; if he is, then I need to get to the Winchester estate before he does,” Jules said with a long sigh. “I hope that he is not going there, though.”

  Daniel’s brow knitted together. “No offence, Your Grace, but what would Leander be going to the Winchester estate for at this hour?”

  Jules’ eyes flicked over to the ladies who still stood near the door to their part of the staff quarters. “This would be best left to another time outside of this gentle company. Come, Daniel, let us see that the carriage is ready as swiftly as possible.”

  “Your Grace, what shall we do to help?” Charlotte called out behind him, determined it seemed to be of use.

  Jules sighed and called back, “If you do not wish to sleep, then I suggest putting on a kettle, Hen. We shall all need it by the time this is over, I am sure.”

  Daniel and Jules made their way out to the carriage house, Jules leaning far heavier on the cane with every passing moment that he walked. Daniel’s eyes cut to Jules with every sharp intake of breath that he made. “Would it not be wiser to send me and one of the others since you are injured, Your Grace?”

  “There are some things a man must do for himself,” Jules explained. “I need to see with my own eyes that she is safe. It is my folly that brought her to this fate, after all.”

  Daniel looked confused but kept his peace as they walked through the carriage house doors. The horses were being fastened to the carriage, and Jules watched the process with impatience. It always seemed as if things went so much slower when time pressed close.

  When the last belt was fastened, Clint looked over at Jules. “She’s ready to go, Your Grace.”

  “Finally,” Jules said with agitation that Clint did not seem to take personally. Daniel and Clint offered to help him up into the carriage, which Jules gratefully accepted. He sighed with relief as he sank down onto the carriage seat. The ride would be torturous, but speed was more important than comfort at present. “Go as quickly as you can, Clint
. Never you mind the holes and bumps, do you understand?”