Stealing the Duchess

by Marie Higgins

  A boy’s painful groan caught Julian’s attention, and he swung his head in the sound’s direction. John sat propped up against the stall’s wall, rubbing his head. A spot of blood stained his hair.

  Julian knelt by his side. “What happened?”

  “Uh, I’m not sure, Your Grace.” He touched his head near the spot of blood and flinched. “I think I was hit in the head with something. There’s a big bump there now.”

  “Did you see who hit you?”

  “No.”

  Julian scanned the stable again. “Have you seen my wife? Her horse is here and saddled. Do you know if she went riding already?”

  “I don’t know, Your Grace. I saddle Buttercup every morning for Miss Temple—um, I mean, Her Grace, because I know she likes to ride. But I didn’t see her this morning.”

  “Stay right here and I’ll have a groomsman fetch my physician.”

  As Julian hurried to find the groomsman, his heartbeat quickened in fear as questions swam in his head. Where had his wife disappeared to, and who would have hit John over the head? Deep down inside his gut, Julian felt it was the same person responsible. He’d bet money that his cousin was behind this.

  All Julian knew was that when he finally found the man accountable for all of this turmoil, the fool was going to wish he were dead. Julian would see to it that he got his revenge.

  STARS SWIRLED IN ALEXANDRIA’S head, accompanied by intense pain as she tried to open her eyes. Whatever piece of furniture her body laid on felt lumpy and grimy, and a musty scent hung in the air. She dared not sneeze only because she knew the agony it would bring to her skull once she did.

  Her mouth was as dry as the air. She tried her best to moisten her mouth and lick her lips. At least she was still alive.

  For now.

  It took some difficulty in opening her eyes, and when she finally gained her bearings, she glanced around the sparse room. She lay on a rickety bed without any blankets. Besides the bed, the only other piece of furniture was a small table next to the window that held a lamp.

  Familiarity pricked her conscience. Why did she feel as though she’d been here before?

  When her attention moved to the door, her memory returned, reminding her when she’d been in this room before. This was Lord Hawthorne’s cottage where Julian had brought her the day he’d kidnapped her.

  Hope sprang in her chest. Had Lord Hawthorne somehow saved her from the mad woman? Yet...if he had, why did he bring her here? Why hadn’t he just taken her inside the manor and summoned Julian’s physician?

  Her stomach twisted as another thought entered her mind. Was Lord Hawthorne somehow involved with Miss Theresa? Why else would the woman bring her to his cottage?

  Bile rose to Alexandria’s throat. She must escape somehow. She’d be able to do it this time since she knew the layout of the cottage and grounds. And she knew that Linden Hall wasn’t too far away.

  She sat on the edge of the bed, holding on to the mattress. Dizziness assailed her once again, and she rode the wave of turbulence until it died down. She vowed she would not swoon. There was no way to know what kind of danger she was in, however, if Miss Theresa harmed people without feeling remorse, who was to say that she wouldn’t try to kill Alexandria? After all, the insane woman had wanted to be Duchess of Linden.

  Once her dizziness had disappeared, Alexandria stood and took careful steps toward the door. When the pounding in her head threatened to break her skull, she eased her footfalls, concentrating on her main goal of escape. Reaching the door, she fell against it and exhaled a relieved sigh.

  With a shaky hand, she tested the doorknob. It turned and clicked the door open. She tried to tell herself that so far, all of this had been too easy...which meant that something must not be right. After all, in her mystery stories, that is how she wrote her plots. The easier things were, the closer a twisting development was about to happen. But this was reality, not fiction, and she wasn’t going to pass by an opportunity if it presented itself.

  Her head spun as she held onto the wall and descended the stairs. She tried listening for any sounds in the house, but the pounding in her head was too loud. Regardless, she would keep pushing forward and take one minute at a time.

  She reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped, listening once again. Fear caused her heart to hammer quickly. She mustn’t allow this weakened emotion to take control. How else could she escape if she was too frightened?

  Taking a deep breath for courage, she turned the corner and headed toward the kitchen. Since Miss Theresa considered herself a lady, Alexandria figured the woman wouldn’t enter this particular room because it was beneath Theresa to reside in such a place where the servants congregated.

  She entered, and blew out a relieved sigh. She’d been correct. The room stood empty.

  Alexandria aimed her focus on the back door. Freedom was within walking distance.

  I can do it, she repeated in her mind as she moved toward the door. Three more steps....now two...one...

  She gripped the doorknob and turned until it clicked open. The grounds in the back of the cottage welcomed her and she was grateful to see the outdoors at last. She’d made it this far, which meant she would make it the rest of the way. Julian would save her from the crazed Miss Theresa, Alexandria was certain of it.

  She stepped out of the house and onto the grass. Birds flew high in the sky, and at the nearby pond, toads were croaking. Hopefully, she wouldn’t disturb them and alert anyone that she was escaping.

  Moving along the wall of the cottage, she kept a sharp eye for anything out of the ordinary. It was still hard to concentrate because of the fierce beat in her head, but she tried not to think of the pain. There were more important things that could occupy her mind right now.

  Just as she reached the corner of the cottage, she heard the snort of a horse. The sound was much closer than she’d expected. Silently, she prayed that someone had come to help her. She didn’t know what she’d do if it was Theresa.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “There you are.”

  Fear made Alexandria’s legs weaken and she collapsed against the brick wall. The chilling voice of Theresa was right behind her. How had she not seen—or heard—the woman sneaking up on her?

  Theresa gripped Alexandria’s arm and yanked. She fell to her knees. Tears filled her eyes, making it hard to see, but really, she didn’t have to see the terror unfolding before her. She didn’t want to see the evil lurking in the woman’s glare.

  “Where do you think you are going?” Theresa snapped.

  “Home...away from you,” Alexandria whispered, but she knew the other woman would hear.

  “That is not going to happen.”

  Growling, Theresa pulled Alexandria back toward the cottage. She had no other choice but to stand and go along. The throb in her head grew worse, and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and pretend this was all a nightmare and that she’d wake up soon and be in Julian’s protecting arms.

  Once they reached the front of the house, Theresa shoved Alexandria to the worn couch. Although the piece of furniture was rickety and dirty, she was grateful for the respite it offered her shaky limbs.

  She rubbed her forehead, trying to alleviate some of the pain, but so far nothing worked. “Tell me,” she said, “what are you going to do with me now?” Although she shouldn’t have asked, she needed to know if her life would end right here and by this woman’s selfish hands or not.

  “I...I don’t know.” Theresa raked her fingers through her mussed hair as she paced the room. “I never thought I’d have to physically do any of this. I had hoped it would be done for me.”

  Obviously, the woman was confused, but it added to Alexandria’s bewilderment, as well. “If you never thought to kidnap me, then why did you do it?”

  “You don’t understand,” Theresa waved her hand, “I have thought of doing this, but I never believed I would actually be the one doing it.”

  Either Alexandria’s head injury
was getting worse and took away the ability to think straight, or this crazed woman wasn’t saying the right words. “Would you make sense so I can understand you?”

  She stopped her pacing in front of the window. Leaning her shoulder against the frame, she peered out the window, frowning. “It’s difficult to explain.”

  “Please try.”

  Theresa exhaled deeply. “I have been so very upset with Julian for ruining my life, as you probably have suspected. He had joined the military, and had built himself an exemplary reputation. He became a major, you know.” She glanced over her shoulder toward Alexandria. She gave her a nod before the woman looked back out the window. “I couldn’t understand why he was reaping the rewards of a good life and I was not...yet he was the one who had ruined me.”

  Alexandria bit her tongue, not wanting to argue the fact that the woman was wrong. They didn’t need to get into that argument again. She remained quiet, waiting to hear what else the lying woman would say that Alexandria would disagree with.

  Theresa frowned. “Not too long ago, I had an incredible idea for revenge that I shared with a few of my friends. They, of course, told me not to think about it ever again, because that kind of imagination would get me thrown in the gaol.”

  “What were you thinking?” Alexandria asked hesitantly.

  “I wanted Julian dead.” Theresa paused as her bottom lip trembled. “It wasn’t fair that he was living a carefree life and I couldn’t.” Her throat constricted in what appeared to be a hard swallow. “But I didn’t want anyone to think I had killed him. I’d actually created a way in my mind to kill him and have everyone believe it was an accident.”

  “How?” Alexandria prodded, dreading her answer. She feared she already knew what the other woman was going to say.

  Sighing heavily, Theresa turned toward her. She leaned her back against the wall and folded her arms. “I was going to find someone who had access to a cannon, and I’d pay them to hit a mark nearby Julian and some of his men.”

  Alexandria’s fears had been confirmed. She gasped before she could control her reaction to the other woman’s words.

  “Yes, that was my idea,” Theresa continued as tears coated her eyes, “but believe me when I say, it wasn’t my doing. I had only created the concept. After I had told my friends, I realized how ludicrous the idea sounded and they were right—I didn’t want to end up in the gaol. Four days later I’d heard that Julian had been killed when a cannonball exploded near him and his men.”

  Alexandria couldn’t believe what she was hearing. For certain something was wrong with her head. “You didn’t do it?”

  “No.”

  “Who did?”

  “I wish I knew. At first, I thought it might have been the friends I’d told, but they are meek and don’t have the means to carry through such a plot. And, of course, they didn’t hate Julian as I had.”

  Alexandria remembered that one of the people involved would have a bullet wound in their arm. Yet, this particular woman didn’t appear as if she’d been injured recently, especially if Theresa handled Alexandria by herself to get her here to this cottage. It was true Theresa was a big boned woman, but if her arm had been injured, she wouldn’t have been able to kidnap Alexandria by herself. Impatiently she waited for her to finish the tale.

  Theresa moved to the hearth. She took the poker and knelt beside the low burning fire, moving the logs with the poker.

  “The news shocked me,” she continued her story, “for I had actually thought about it, and yet it really happened. Then reality struck me hard and I mourned. I was sick for several days thinking I was the one who’d killed him...even though I hadn’t.” A tear streaked down her cheek. “When I discovered he was still alive, I was relieved. I felt as if I had been given a second chance at winning him back.” Her stare hardened. “And then you came into his life, and I couldn’t allow you to wreck my plans.”

  “Is that why you tried to kill us in the coach accident?” Alexandria really hadn’t believed Theresa was behind it, but now...there was definitely a possibility.

  Theresa gave a small laugh. “Actually, no. Killing you in a coach accident was not something I’d conjured up, unfortunately.”

  “How had you thought of killing me?”

  “You enjoy riding your horse. I was hoping your saddle would loosen and you would fall. Of course, you’d strike your head against a large rock and be killed instantly.”

  Nodding, Alexandria bunched her hands into fists as the anger rose inside of her. “And that is why you were meddling with Buttercup’s saddle when I caught you in the stable.”

  “Well, yes. Although I didn’t want to do it, I thought I needed to help fate along.”

  “Fate.” She shook her head. “Is that what you call it?” Indeed, this woman had lost her mind completely.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “And what has fate got planned for me now?”

  Irritation blazed through Theresa’s glare. “I don’t know that answer, which is why I’m so very confused. I had thought you’d die when falling off your horse, and now that you have completely mussed up that plan, I don’t know what to do. Whatever happens to you, I don’t want to be blamed for it. I don’t want anyone to think I was behind it. If that happens, I won’t have any chance of winning Julian’s love.”

  Rolling her eyes, she couldn’t believe this woman. Theresa wouldn’t stop until everything went her way, and that frightened Alexandria to death.

  Stalling for time—and hoping that she’d be able to think of a way out of here—she glanced around the meager room. It was hard to believe that a place like this belonged to Lord Hawthorne since he hadn’t done anything to repair the cottage or even decorate it with newer furniture. Obviously, he didn’t bring anyone here. “Tell me something else before you take my life in cold blood. How does Lord Hawthorne fit into your twisted scheme?”

  Her eyebrows arched. “What makes you assume Lord Hawthorne is involved?”

  “Because this is his cottage.”

  Theresa hitched a breath and her hand gripped the handle of the poker tighter. “How did you know that?”

  “My husband brought me here once.”

  The haughty expression Theresa wore with pride reappeared and she lifted her chin. “I suppose I should tell you since I don’t plan on you being alive much longer.”

  Crushing despair made Alexandria’s heart heavy. No, her mind screamed. There must be a way out of this nightmare. “Please tell me,” she said with a choked voice, wishing she could control her fear a little better.

  “Not too long ago, Lord Hawthorne decided to make me his mistress.” She shrugged. “After all, I am considered a fallen woman because of what Julian did so no decent man will have me for his wife. But nevertheless, Lord Hawthorne decided he wanted me for his mistress, and being desperate for a man’s attention, I agreed.”

  “Why didn’t Lord Hawthorne want you for his wife, I wonder?” Perhaps Alexandria shouldn’t have rubbed salt in the wound, but she just couldn’t help it making the other woman sting in some way.

  Theresa’s facial features hardened and she slammed the poker still in her hand against the wall. “Actually, it’s the other way around. I didn’t want him for a husband. He will only be an earl.”

  “Oh, so you were after someone with a higher title?”

  “But of course.”

  Alexandria shook her head. “But when you were falling in love with Julian, he was only the second son of a duke. Why would you want a man like that?”

  Theresa huffed. She placed the poker against the wall and paced the floor. “Julian was closer to being a duke than Dominic was. Besides that, Julian’s family was wealthier.”

  “And you needed to find a husband who could keep you living in the lap of luxury.”

  The woman grinned. “You understand now.”

  “Are you still Lord Hawthorne’s mistress?”

  Her smile faded as lines of malice drew creases in her face. She paused
in front of Alexandria. “No. He grew tired of me quickly.”

  “Does he know you are using his cottage?” Alexandria wondered.

  “No, and if I have it my way, he’ll never know. However, the duke’s dead wife will be found in this hell hole and everyone will believe he killed you.” She threw up her hands. “Thus, my plan for revenge against him for discarding me like a ragged garment will be complete.”

  “Well, Miss Theresa, it sounds like you have everything thought out and well-planned. However, I think you are overlooking one important matter in all of this.”

  “And what, pray tell, is that?” She folded her arms and cocked her head.

  “Making my husband fall in love with you enough to marry you.” She shrugged. “After all, if I’m dead, he will be very distraught. We may have only been together a short time, but he truly loves me, just as I love him.” Tears stung her eyes as she recalled their last moments together, the last time he touched her, kissed her, and his last words. For a certainty, her husband loved her with all of his heart. “I imagine,” she continued, trying not to cry, “that it will be hard for him to find another woman who will be able to make him forget me.”

  Growling, Theresa turned away and marched to the window. Nothing was said for a few moments as the woman looked outside.

  Alexandria’s headache worsened, but that wasn’t the reason her stomach churned. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to live forever with her wonderful Julian. She wanted them to have children, and grow old together. Yet right now, her defender was not here to protect her. Whatever happened from here on out, she would have to be the one to free herself from this situation and return to the man she loved.

  Her gaze fell on the poker resting against the wall...a wall that was very close to where she sat on the couch. She snapped her attention back to Theresa who hadn’t moved. This was the perfect chance to take control of everything—to become as heroic as one of her characters in her stories. Alexandria was closer to the weapon than Theresa. If only she could stop her head from spinning and gain the strength and the courage needed.