by Joyce Wright
“Let’s leave that topic until we hear from the search party. Why don’t you order some tea for Richard to warm him once he is found?”
Yes, tea. Tea would keep her busy and away from Gilbert while she thought. She nodded, then hurried away.
#
Gilbert paced to the nursery window. The lights from lanterns danced out over the grounds like fireflies. They wouldn’t find the boy. He just hoped the men would return soon, so he could persuade Agnes to accompany him in the carriage on a search.
Chapter 4
An hour later, the search was abandoned as Nurse and Richard were not found on the estate, but fresh footprints were found in the soft earth beneath his window and equally fresh wagon tracks lead away from the manor. Tears threatened to fall, but Agnes kept them at bay.
Gilbert determined that he and Lionel would venture out, see where the tracks led and alert the constable in Richmond. Before they could leave, however, Agnes insisted on coming, too. He surprised her by agreeing readily enough, only advising that she dress warmly in the night air and gather warm clothes for Richard as well.
They pulled out onto the road, Lionel in front, and Agnes sitting across from Gilbert in the carriage. The sky was starless, heavy with clouds. She stared out the window, squinting, hoping to see something, but knowing even without the dark, her poor eyesight without spectacles would prevent her sighting much. When the silence became unbearable she turned to him. He sat calmly, his hands folded in his lap, his gaze upon her. It must be his medical training that allowed him such calm stoicism. Even when he was a child, he had excelled at calm.
“Tell me about your America.” She had of course seen many paintings and read many stories, but none created clear pictures in her mind.
Gilbert smiled. “My America, eh? Let me see. I settled in the most British of all cities, Boston, which boasts a harbor and countryside, as well as city entertainments.”
Agnes laughed softly. “Boston of infamy.”
“Yes, that.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, as if picturing it. “Americans are quite different than their English cousins. There is courageousness, a sense of adventure that we, perhaps, shared at one time, but they have by the bushel.”
“And you,“ she said, intrigued, “do you share this sense of adventure and courage?”
He laughed outright. “Me? No, I am not a bit more adventuresome than I was when you knew me. You, my dear, were always the adventurous one. I do find it a joy to behold.” He sobered, then turned his head toward her again. “Just as I did in you.”
She swallowed hard, warmth blossoming in her chest as only he was able to create.
“As far as courage, no, I have never had enough of that either—“
“Why ever say that? You journeyed to America to aid our soldiers during the war. You saved me from many disadvantages as a child—“
“Yes, but not the biggest disadvantage of all—marrying my brother.” He leaned forward, grabbing her hands from her lap and holding them firmly. “I’ve thought back over it so many times, Agnes, how I should have fought him for you, fought to the death. At least, had I died, I wouldn’t have struggled as I have, missing you every day of my life.”
Agnes gasped. His words were too fresh to be spoken to a married woman, too raw to be spoken to her. She closed her eyes briefly, squeezed his hands, then gently tugged hers away. She was a duchess.
“You could no more take a life than my Richard could. You were born to save lives, not take them.” She met his gaze earnestly. “All things for a purpose. Had you remained here, there are lives in America that wouldn’t have been saved. British soldiers who returned home to their wives and children because you were there. Had you fought for me, even won me, that likely would not have been the case.” She smiled then. “Because I, dear Gilbert, am not as selfless as you are. I could not have born it if you’d left me behind.”
His troubled face cleared. “Do you believe all that, Agnes?”
She smiled. “I am a vicar’s daughter. Of course I believe it.” Even if she did not like it. Even if her heart was shattering in a million pieces just sitting this close to him and not being able to draw in close and snuggle into his warmth, wrap her arms around his neck, touch his lips with hers. She turned back to the window, sensing more than seeing the passing of greenery, of small forest groves, of time.
#
Gilbert cleared his throat roughly and turned around to the front of the carriage. “Lionel, are you still guided by the previous tracks?”
“Yes, sir. But we’re coming upon a fork and I see more than one set. Do make a decision about which I should follow.”
Not wanting to appear too knowledgeable, he hesitated before answering. “Take the right toward the village. If we find nothing, we will backtrack.”
In the village, he jumped out at the tavern, telling Agnes he would enquire within. In truth, all he enquired over was the last time the duke had visited, which was that very night.
As he approached the carriage again, he heard soft cries from within. Damn! After whispering their next stop to Lionel, he opened the carriage door. Before he could stop himself he climbed into the seat beside Agnes, and pulled her into his arms.
She resisted at first, her body stiff and unyielding, her jaw tight as she attempted to contain her distress. But he whispered to her as he would an injured animal and rubbed her back until she relaxed into his arms and sobbed openly.
“I’ve lost so much, Gilbert. My family…” She hesitated, then mumbled, “ You.” She cleared her throat and leaned back slightly so she could look at him. “I cannot live if I lose my son as well. He is everything good about us all. Everything.”
“There, there, my dear. We have one more stop to make—to alert the constable in Richmond and then we’ll continue on to Edington. At the tavern, I learned two strangers enquired about directions to some farmland east of there.”
“Oh, Gilbert, do you think we’ll find him? Tonight?” She smiled, then wiped self-consciously at her face with a sodden handkerchief. He pulled his from his pocket and offered it.
“Thank you,” She whispered. “I’m sorry for giving in to my fears. I am often not a good vicar’s daughter.” She closed her eyes and pulled away completely, pushing her head back against the seat.
“Is that what your father told you?” He whispered. There was much they needed to speak of, much that had happened before she married, before he left the country. Things that happened when they believed their marriage predestined.
Agnes nodded. “Among other things.”
“I believe, had he to do it over again, your father would make different choices.” He needed her to know that.
“Don’t speak of it now,” she pleaded. Keeping her head against the seat, she rolled her face toward him. “Let us bring Richard home, and then,” she took a deep breath, “If the Duke is still away, you will tell me why you have come and perhaps we will speak lightly of back then. Just once though. I can’t bear to speak of it more than once.”
Much they needed to work through. So much she didn’t know. He leaned his head against the seat, too, and drew a deep breath turning to her again. He gave in to his earlier desires and stroked her jaw just once before dropping his hand. “Very well, let that be our plan.”
Chapter 5
Agnes must have dozed because the sudden stop of the carriage startled her awake. She tried to peer through her window, but other than a few lights off in the distance, she could see nothing. “Where are we?” she whispered.
“At the small farm the strangers enquired about.” Gilbert whispered, too, as he leaned across her to squint through the window. “I see someone moving about within. I’m uncertain if we should wait until it’s dark inside the house, Or if we should go on and investigate now.”
He would be unprotected. Like Richard. “Shouldn’t you wait for the constable? Didn’t his wife say to wait?”
“She said she would give him my message when he arrived home.
Agnes, there’s no guarantee when he’ll get home. He could be drinking or womanizing. It’s uncertain when he will return.”
Wanting to ensure Richard’s safety won out against her fears. Even as gentle as he was, Gilbert had always stood up against any who hurt her. She grabbed his hands. “Okay, go if you must. But please be safe.” I’ve only just found you again.
He smiled. “Dear Agnes, you were always a worrier. Lionel and I are armed. I learned to shoot during the war. We’ll be fine. I need you to climb into the front of the carriage. Be prepared to drive away if things don’t go as planned. Can you do that for me, Agnes?”
If things don’t go as planned. If someone dies. “Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Oh Richard, please be safe. As Gilbert climbed down from the carriage, she added silently, Please, Gilbert, be safe, too.
On the seat behind the horses, the night air was cold even with a thick cape wrapped around her shoulders and a blanket draped over her lap. The men had disappeared into the darkness at least thirty minutes ago, and she could see nothing. Shivers racked her shoulders and back, and goose bumps jumped up and down her arms.
Night sounds settled around her, crickets chirping, small animals rustling in the bushes and trees that lined the road. Somewhere behind her, the River Adam burbled gently, almost reassuringly. No sounds from the direction of the lights. She rubbed her arms briskly. It was nights such as these that could change a person’s life forever. In her youth, she had thought the night Richard was conceived was the longest night ever. She felt certain this one would rival it.
What was that? She sat very still and strained to hear. Footsteps coming from the direction of the lights. She held herself stiffly. The footsteps grew closer and with them, a whispered conversation. Her heart pounded in her chest. Was it Gilbert? Or the kidnappers? Her hands hesitated as they reached for the reins. What was she to do?
“Duchess, we have found them. We have them.”
“Oh,” she cried and climbed down. She stood in the dark, all but blind, until she finally made out first one form and then the next and the next moving toward her.
“Oh, Richard!” She hurried forward and took him from Gilbert’s arms.
“What’s wrong, Mama? Why am I here? Why did I not know my Uncle Gilbert was coming to call?”
Agnes clung to him and rocked back and forth as he chattered, his voice happy, none the worse for wear. “There was a cat and three kittens in the house.”
“We should hurry,” whispered Nurse, out of breath, “just in case.”
“Indeed, you are correct. Richard, my boy, you climb in first.”
Bundled into the carriage, Nurse and Gilbert shared the seat across from Agnes and Richard.
“Whatever happened, Nurse? I don’t understand.” Agnes implored, hugging her son close. His chattering had quieted, signaling he was growing tired.
“Oh, Duchess, you would not believe it. Two men, big and smelly, burst into the nursery and grabbed me from behind, stuffing a rag into my mouth. I could do nothing except follow their orders and keep young Richard safe.”
“Thank you, Nurse, Thank you, I am eternally grateful to you for taking such good care of him.” She turned to Gilbert, “What happened inside?”
Gilbert cleared his throat. “Only one man remained. The other had left for supplies. Lionel tackled the man and tied him up, making the rescue simple. We left him tied and gagged.”
“Oh.” The trembling began again, but this time, it was born from happiness. She gently laid Richard’s head in her lap as he had begun to slump against her. “I’m so happy.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she caressed the precious curls. “I cannot thank either of you enough. “ She looked at Gilbert. “What would I have done had you not arrived tonight? My boy could have been lost forever—“
“Don’t say that, Agnes. Had it not been me, it would have been someone else to save him. What did you tell me--all things for a purpose?”
“And what purpose does this serve?” Her question met with silence.
#
Once Agnes had followed Richard and Nurse to sleep, Gilbert alerted Lionel, and he turned the carriage around, heading away from the Manor and the village of Richmond as quickly as they could go.
The horses’ hooves pounded the ground, echoing through the valleys in the dark silent night. His head pounded alongside, a torturous headache, as he contemplated their next step.
He had actually spoken with the constable of Richmond, revealed all the information he’d gathered, the irregularities, the people to interview, the Duke’s comings and goings based on his conversations with Lionel. Now he needed to wait someplace safe while the authorities completed their jobs. Someplace safe for Agnes and Richard. If she would trust him. She would not like the place he had chosen.
Richard had trusted him. The boy allowed him to sweep him into his arms and carry him from the house after Lionel tackle and restrain the kidnapper.
He had smiled confidently when Gilbert introduced himself. “So you’re my Uncle Gilbert. Mama says I probably know more of your secrets than you can remember.”
What did he mean by that? “How would you know those?” He had asked.
“Mama’s adventures with you and sometimes Sara are my favorite stories to hear before bed. I have them memorized.” He smiled proudly.
Gilbert had smiled and tapped his nephew on the chest lightly. “Then you will certainly have to tell them to me, since your mother seems to think I’m too old to remember them.” And he had promptly leaned forward as if he used a cane and limped across the floor.”
Richard had rolled with laughter, but sobered suddenly. “Mama will be worried. You will take me to her, yes?”
“Yes, I will.”
On his voyage across the ocean, he had often thought of Phillip’s son and how he would feel about him. The thought had been worrisome because he didn’t want to dislike a child due to his parentage.
But upon meeting Richard, Gilbert saw he was so much his mother’s son that he felt he knew him instantly. Love had stirred in his chest with that recognition.
“Where are we? Agnes whispered.
Gilbert jumped slightly. He flattened his lips between his teeth. Why couldn’t she have slept at least another hour? Truth time.
No, partial truth time. “About an hour or so from Shendon—“
“Shendon? Why? That’s three hours from the manor, at least.”
Gilbert reached across the short distance that separated them to take one of his hands in hers. “I know going home is hard, but I need you to trust me.”
She whispered, “It’s not a matter of trust. It’s a matter of my son was kidnapped and we don’t know why. It’s a matter of I’m a Duchess now and I have to be mindful of that.” She sighed deeply. “I have to be mindful of everything. And it’s a matter of Phillip. He’s my husband, and if he arrives home and I am not there...” She touched her face, probably not even realizing it and he shut his eyes briefly to remove the image of her bruises. “If I’m not there, he’ll be unhappy with me.”
He needed to reveal more of the truth. “I told you about the suspicions my uncle’s valet had? I’m not just now arriving in England. I’ve been here the better part of the month, traveling from one place to the next investigating his suspicions. I believe my brother guilty of the murder of my uncle, but possible more—“
“More? Are you certain?”
“Very much so.”
Agnes rubbed her arms. “Is that why Richard was kidnapped? Because of what Phillip did?”
Not that question. Why had he not expected that one? “I don’t know,” was all he could think to say.
“That’s why you’ve wanted me to trust you? Where are you taking us in Shendon?”
He couldn’t’ tell her that, not yet. “Someplace safe. Someplace where I can leave you briefly while I check on matters again.”
“Pray, give me time to think. I must be mindful. If no one believes your accusations, I still must liv
e with the Duke.” She drew her hand away, but patted his gently before withdrawing completely.
With no choice, he pulled away, his hands feeling suddenly cold, and leaned back against his seat. Now he would wait. The sun would break over the horizon in another hour. Richard and Nurse would likely awaken. Dare he say more? Dare he give speech to the dreams that swelled in his heart each time he touched her? No. She had asked for time; he would give her that.
Chapter 6
Dawn broke. A glorious dawn, pink and orange layering upward into the gray blue sky. The light seemed to dull the pounding of the hooves and the rolling of the carriage wheels. Agnes gave up all pretense of looking out the window and watched Gilbert’s face as it gradually become clearer as the world brightened. He had returned her gaze, his warm eyes behind his spectacles caressing her. His look was too familiar, too warm, but she could no more look away from it than she could make the sun not rise.
“I will trust you,” she whispered an instant before Richard lifted his head.
He looked about him, disoriented for only an instant, before his face cleared and he declared, “Our adventure hasn’t ended!”
Agnes chuckled. When Gilbert echoed her laughter, she looked over in surprise. He appreciated Richard as she did. Her gaze met his and the connection was so strong, her laughter died away and she could hardly breathe.
“I’m hungry, Mama. Where are we? When are we stopping?” Richard’s face was pressed against the window, his voice slightly muffled, but his excitement clear.
“I recognize this area. We’re not long outside of a village called Vienna. There’s a bridge we’ll be crossing soon. We can stop right after and refresh ourselves and the horses by the river. “
“Why is it named Vienna?”
Agnes smiled as Gilbert answered her son’s question which turned into another question and then another. The two complemented each other quite well. Richard required a great deal of patience due to his enthusiasm and interest in everything. Gilbert never lacked patience.
