To Desire a Duke: Dangerous Dukes Vol 8

by Wendy Soliman

  Vaughan leaned his backside against the window ledge, clearly assuming that his friend didn’t require any help to overpower a harmless female. Fletcher advanced towards her, clutching a cushion, an evil smile gracing his features. He was definitely enjoying himself, but Brione fully intended to spoil his pleasure. It was occasionally useful to be underestimated as a feeble female, especially since he was a tall man, she was seated and as he approached his groin was directly in her line of vision.

  He raised the pillow, still grinning, and Brione struck, plunging her dagger as hard and deep as she could manage into his most sensitive area before twisting it as fiercely as she could. A spurt of blood fountained, covering his breeches and splattering her face and hands. He paused, looked momentarily startled, then glanced down at the stream of blood and back up at her, as though he couldn’t quite understand what had happened. When he realised, he rent the air with angry screams.

  Brione trembled and knew she needed to act now, to take advantage of Vaughan’s momentary astonishment, and escape from the confines of the room. But her limbs had gone into spasm, she was in shock and incapable of moving.

  ‘What the devil…’

  Vaughan leapt forward at the same time as the clock struck the hour. Joseph would be leaving now to fetch help, Brione thought dispassionately, but it would arrive too late. Vaughan was aware of the dagger, which she had extracted from Fletcher’s groin and now clasped tightly in her hand. He would be able to take it from her easily enough, although her trembles were already subsiding. She was still fighting mad and not ready to give up quite yet. Fletcher was on his knees, clutching his groin and turning the air blue with his language. There was a poker sitting beside the empty grate. Could she reach it before Vaughan grabbed her?

  The door crashed open, distracting them all. Brione almost fainted, but with relief this time as she looked up to see Troy standing in the opening, in shirt sleeves and splattered with mud, his hair tangled after what had obviously been a ride at breakneck speed. His stance conveyed impressive strength and his whole body seemed to vibrate with mordant anger. He brought the smell of horses and fresh air into the room with him, along with his implacable will and unimpeachable authority.

  He took in the scene at a glance and momentarily faltered when his gaze rested on the blood that spattered her face. She gave him a small nod that implied she was unhurt and he then turned his attention to Vaughan, his expression flat, hard and without mercy.

  Vaughan, coward that he was, no longer seemed quite so sure of himself and took an instinctive step backwards. Brione was having none of it and refused to be denied her revenge. Situated now behind him, she grabbed the poker and lashed it across the back of his legs, bringing him to the ground howling in pain.

  ‘You came.’ She glanced up at Troy as Mr Kensley and two of Troy’s men manhandled the miscreants to their feet.

  ‘Secure them in the cellar, take the key and lock this tavern up tight,’ he said curtly. He then took Brione’s arm and his expression softened momentarily. ‘Are you harmed?’ he asked.

  She shook her head, unable to speak. ‘Then we had best return to the castle. I will deal with your disobedience later,’ he said, marching her from the room.

  She was annoyed when her legs threatened to give way beneath her and he was obliged to help her down the stairs. When they reached the mews, the glorious fresh air that she had feared she would never breathe again touched her face. He lifted her bodily into the curricle beside Joseph, with instructions for her to be driven back to the castle. Joseph, looking bemused by her condition, nodded his agreement. Troy passed her his handkerchief and she wiped the blood from her face. Two of Troy’s men fell in behind them on their horses, presumably with orders to escort them back.

  Without a word, Troy vaulted onto the back of his unsaddled stallion. Omega was dripping with sweat that made the speed with which Troy had ridden him here clear. Horse and duke disappeared at a canter.

  ‘He will miss the race,’ Brione muttered, ‘and it’s all my fault.’

  Then she burst into tears.

  Troy and Kensley rode back to the castle at the same breakneck speed at which they had left it. Troy was still gripped with a fulminating anger that made it hard for him to think straight, much less speak. Joseph was in for a massive increase in pay and responsibility. Had it not been for his quick thinking…well, he didn’t care to dwell upon how matters would have turned out. He told Troy that he had been instructed by Brione to drive her to the tavern and then come to fetch him if she was gone for more than half an hour.

  Of all the irresponsible, foolhardy, impulsive…Troy took a deep breath as Omega leapt over a fence and he concentrated on remaining on his back without a saddle to grip onto. The landlord’s daughter had actually saved the day. Troy didn’t know all the particulars as yet, but he did know that she’d reluctantly shown Brione up to that room, then decided it wasn’t right and warned Joseph that she had been drawn into a trap. Joseph had been sharp enough to come and get him immediately.

  If he had not…

  Kensley’s horse couldn’t keep pace with Omega and Troy didn’t wait for him to catch up. He was too angry to discuss what they had just witnessed. Besides, he needed to take part in the race. It seemed unimportant when viewed against the bigger picture, but his failure to compete in the final would create questions he was unprepared to answer, to say nothing of making it appear as though he was afraid to put Omega against his rival’s magnificent horse.

  ‘Not that we have much of a chance now, boy,’ he said, slowing Omega to a walk as they approached the racetrack. ‘I’ve pushed you too hard in saving the lady, but at least we can be gracious losers.’

  Omega tossed his head and Troy managed a brief, mirthless smile. ‘We’re neither of us accustomed to that particular word, are we?’ he said, still trying to make sense of the fact that Fletcher was very much alive.

  ‘They were devious devils,’ Kensley said, trotting his horse up to Omega. ‘And it looks as though Brione gave them a good fight,’ he added chuckling. ‘She knew the most sensitive place to strike, it would appear. Might be best if you avoid annoying her, Troy.’

  Troy fully intended to put her over his knee and spank some obedience into her, before he kissed her witless and never let her go again. He had never known such fierce, protective feelings. But he would express those at a later opportunity. For now, he had more urgent priorities.

  ‘Ah, there you are, your grace,’ Bryce said, sitting astride his magnificent bay stallion, who looked fresh and eager to eat up the ground with his long stride. ‘Omega seems a little tired,’ he added, glancing at the stallion’s heaving flanks.

  ‘I was just letting him burn off a little of his energy in order to make it a more even contest,’ Troy replied, wondering if Brione was safely back at the castle yet. Telling himself to concentrate and not think about her wild spirit and fiery eyes. This race was dangerous, and distractions were as good a way as any to get himself killed.

  Bryce laughed. ‘It’s just the four of us left, as you know, but this year I intend to get the upper hand.’

  Troy nodded and held out his hand, which the trainer turned country gent took in a firm hold. ‘May the better man win,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, I intend to,’ Bryce replied.

  The crowd of spectators surged forward, bubbling with anticipation as the four finalists lined their horses up at the starting point. The adjudicator held up a handkerchief and when he dropped it, the horses leapt forward. Troy, still preoccupied, was left behind and almost fell backwards over Omega’s rump. The near miss reclaimed his attention to the task in hand as the horses thundered towards the first obstacle. Troy was happy to let Bryce take the lead. One of the other competitors fell at that first jump and they were down to three. Omega was already tired and could never beat a fresh horse like Bryce’s, but it was necessary to put on a good show.

  Divots flew up from beneath the horses’ hooves. Holding Omega back to conserve
his dwindling supply of energy, Troy’s face was soon coated with a fine layer of mud. He took one hand from the reins and brushed his forearm across his eyes in order to clear his vision—although perhaps it would be better not to be able to see where he was going. He leaned forward as Omega saw an obstacle approaching, ears pricked. The gutsy horse was still giving his all. He gathered his haunches beneath him and flew over it, brushing the hedge with his forelegs and landing awkwardly.

  Troy heard the crowd gasp as Omega stumbled and Troy struggled to stay on his back. They continued round the track, which suddenly seemed like twenty miles rather than two, and his brave stallion continued to put up a fight. Troy worried that he would damage himself but also knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop him. They had ridden this track dozens of times. Omega knew where the finish line was situated and that he wasn’t expected to stop before then. The horse had the heart of a lion.

  As they reached the penultimate fence, Omega’s pace became increasingly laboured. Troy sat perfectly still, not leaning forward or encouraging him to greater effort. The stallion was a prince amongst horses and Troy was inordinately pleased with his efforts when he landed in front of the only other competitor other than Bryce. He reminded himself that the traitors were under lock and key, Brione was safe and that was all that mattered.

  His oscillating thoughts blocked out the noise of the crowd as they cheered the riders on. Omega, always willing to show off, obviously heard his name being called and found a reserve of energy from somewhere. He lengthened his stride and took the last fence level with Bryce, who looked surprised to see them gaining on him. The final run to the line was a blur as shouts and screams encouraged the two stallions to show what they were made of. Troy leaned over as far as he dared, his face level with Omega’s ears as they crossed the line half a head in front of Bryce.

  ‘He won! He did it!’

  Brione bounced on her toes and threw her arms around Rachel’s neck, filled with admiration for Troy’s skill and Omega’s pluck. She never would have thought it possible. Noise filled the air as those who had wagered on Troy celebrated and the others remarked on the close race and the respective abilities of the horses and riders. Troy was surrounded by people keen to congratulate him, but he appeared to be more intent upon scanning the crowd. She wondered if he was looking for her, but quickly dismissed the possibility. She had let him down and she would never forget the look of abject disappointment on his face as he lifted her into the curricle and then turned his back on her.

  Her work here was done. She had found the identity of the traitors and cleared Evan’s name. She would keep her word to Lady Murray and leave here now, this afternoon.

  She took Rachel aside, gave her a brief account of the morning’s activities and asked for the loan of her carriage.

  ‘You are leaving?’

  ‘Yes, I think I should,’ Brione replied, fighting back the tears. ‘There is nothing left here for me now. It would be best if I went before…well, I need to leave.’

  Brione expected denials, entreaties to stay for another night at least, but instead Rachel nodded her understanding.

  ‘You have fallen in love with him,’ she said quietly.

  Brione nodded, no longer willing to deceive her best friend or herself. ‘But it will do me no good. Any association with me would be held against his name.’

  ‘I will order my carriage for you.’

  ‘Thank you. I have nothing to pack. All the clothing I have here is actually yours.’

  ‘Take it anyway.’

  Half an hour later Brione was driven away from Alford Castle, her departure going unobserved after all the excitement of the race. She was crying so hard that she didn’t get a clear final view of her surroundings.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A month had passed since the extraordinary events that had taken place on the day of the race. Troy could still recall his abject despair when Deb told him that Brione had left a note of thanks and departed from the castle while he was accepting the accolades piled upon him following Omega’s spirited triumph. Vaughan and Fletcher had been taken off to Whitehall. Troy hadn’t asked what had happened to them, but he knew they would never be heard from again. He had made it his business to ensure that Gilliard’s name was cleared of all suspicion, and that all rumours about his loyalty were scotched.

  That was at least something that he could do for the lady who owned his heart, even if his feelings were not reciprocated. He had been short-tempered with everyone around him since she had left, and only Kensley had the courage to stand up to him when his mood was so uncompromisingly bleak.

  ‘For the love of God!’ Kensley cried in frustration one morning when Troy had, probably unjustly, taken out his annoyance on a servant. ‘You are better than this. Go and see her and find out once and for all whether she shares your feelings.’

  ‘She’s made it very apparent that she does not. She couldn’t leave here fast enough.’

  ‘Now you sound like a sulking child.’ Troy glowered at his friend but refrained from taking him to task for the insult, mainly because he knew it was the truth. ‘In your self-imposed misery, has it once occurred to you that she left because she felt she wasn’t good enough for you?’

  Troy blinked, wondering if that could possibly be the case, and felt as though the mist that had been fogging his brain this past month had suddenly lifted. ‘That’s ridiculous! She’s worth a dozen of any of the women Deb considers suitable.’

  ‘Perhaps Deb warned her off. You did tell your sister that she was here to help you resolve a problem, but then showed her far too much attention in public.’

  Realisation dawned but along with it came a raft of unfamiliar self-doubts. ‘What if she’s still hankering after Gilliard?’

  Kensley shrugged. ‘There’s only one way to find out. Besides, she corresponds with Rachel Woodley, who tells me that her feelings towards Gilliard have undergone a marked alteration now that she is aware of the truth about his character.’

  ‘You and Mrs Woodley…’

  ‘None of your damned affair. Look to your own interests and let me see to mine.’

  ‘I shall go in the morning.’

  Troy, with Shadow for company, made the journey to Cambridge in two days due to the fact that he was willing to spend long hours in the carriage, changing horses frequently. He wondered what sort of reception he could expect as his conveyance approached the large manor house she occupied, set well back from the road, surrounded by several acres of well-tended gardens and paddocks. He felt inexplicably nervous as he alighted and prepared to climb the stairs to the front door. Shadow, with no thought for Troy’s finer feelings, threw back his head, sniffed the air, barked once and loped round the side of the house.

  Troy followed and found her sitting on the terrace in the shade, a book open on her lap. He took a moment to study her lovely profile before she noticed him. She appeared distracted and was mumbling to herself—a habit of hers that he found beguiling. Shadow, not inhibited by nervous thoughts of rejection, bounded up to her, his tail spiralling. She saw him, gasped and instinctively reached out to tug at his ears before looking up, presumably for him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.

  ‘You left without saying goodbye,’ he replied, stepping closer and noticing dark shadows beneath her eyes. She had clearly not been sleeping any better than he had, which gave him hope. He fell into the chair across from her. ‘Has anyone ever told you that is the height of bad manners?’

  ‘I had served my purpose.’ Two spots of colour had appeared on her otherwise pale cheeks and she looked away from him. ‘Besides, you were cross with me and I was in no mood for a trimming.’

  ‘You are far too impulsive,’ he said, smiling and shaking his head.

  ‘You know how I was persuaded to go there?’

  ‘Some of it. It was the girl, Rose, who alerted Joseph to your plight. She thought you were there for an assignation, but then you mentioned Ana’s name.
Anyway, she hadn’t realised what they intended to do to you, but she didn’t feel comfortable, so…’

  ‘I have her to thank, and Joseph.’

  ‘He has been promoted to a senior footman’s position.’

  ‘Good. He deserves it.’

  ‘He’s a little in love with you, which shows good judgement on his part.’

  Brione smiled. ‘He recognised me when I was transformed from maid to guest but didn’t give me away.’ She paused. ‘Vaughan told me that morning that Ana was at the tavern and wanted to see me.’

  Troy tried not to show just how horrified he felt when he realised how easily she had been taken in. ‘You should not have gone alone,’ he said mildly.

  ‘I would not have done, but for the fact that Vaughan assured me he would be at the race. All you gentlemen were so taken up with it that I didn’t doubt his word for a moment. You were like small boys looking forward to Christmas, and it was all you had talked about the entire time I was there. Anyway, how was I supposed to know that Fletcher was still alive? Even you didn’t know that,’ she added defiantly. ‘But thank you for saving me.’

  ‘I didn’t do very much,’ he admitted. ‘You saved yourself.’

  ‘I did debilitate Fletcher,’ she admitted, smiling at the memory.

  Troy chortled. ‘You did a little more damage than that. He won’t be fathering any children, put it that way. Not that he will get the opportunity, but still.’

  ‘Vaughan underestimated me, and left Fletcher to…’ She swallowed. ‘He intended to smother me with a pillow, kill Joseph and have the two of us found dead as the result of our curricle overturning. Anyway, once I attacked Fletcher, Vaughan had his guard up. I wouldn’t have got to him as well if you had not been there.’