Of Dukes and Deceptions

by Wendy Soliman

  Back in his chamber, Nick pulled off his shirt and threw it aside. “What were you doing hanging about that corridor anyway?”

  Gibson chuckled. “I knew you was up to something when you dismissed me earlier. It weren’t that difficult to work out wot it had to be. Thought you might need me to watch yer back but,” he added, grinning in the direction of the back in question, “someone else obviously beat me to it.” Too late Nick recalled Alicia raking her fingernails down it hard enough to leave marks. “So, wot did you learn from yer conversation with Miss Woodley?”

  “Well, for one thing, her inheritance is definitely too small to incite her relations to murderous conspiracies. And apart from her sub-quality stallion, that’s all she possesses.”

  Gibson poured water into a ewer. “It’s cold but better than nothing. Seems talking to Miss Woodley’s got you all hot and bothered.”

  Nick ignored his smirk and washed in the cold water.

  “Well,” Gibson continued, “if it ain’t about money, then it must be something to do with that nag.”

  “Yes, that’s what I’d concluded. Did you know that they had a virus in the yard a couple of years ago?”

  “No, no one’s mentioned it, which is interesting. It opens all sorts of possibilities.” He paused. “Here, what if Shalimar caught the virus?”

  “He did.”

  “Stallions that get viruses are often left sterile.”

  Water splashed over the side of the ewer as Nick slapped his hands in it, soaking his chest. “But that’s it! It’s so obvious I should have seen it immediately. Woodley doesn’t want Alicia to exercise the stallion because he supposedly fears for her safety. But she’s a superb horsewoman, and I never really thought his concerns rang true.”

  “Are you saying his fear ain’t for her but for the stallion? He don’t want him injured or overexercised, otherwise he won’t be able to perform?”

  “Yes. It would also explain why he’s so anxious for Alicia to remain at the Manor. Or at least stable her horse here. When she refused, he somehow got his son to propose to her.” Nick chuckled. “It must have come as quite a shock when she turned him down.”

  “Aye, but guv’nor, would he really resort to murder? His own niece too. Why didn’t he just come clean and explain wot he’s doing?”

  “Probably because he’s too full of pride to admit to his mistakes.” Nick grimaced. “It appears to be a family failing. He turned down Alicia’s offers of assistance in the stud so could hardly confess to his failure without losing face. Besides, what he’s doing is fraudulent. I doubt that Alicia would countenance his actions, even to save the stud. Most of his customers want their mares covered by Shalimar, who commands high stud fees. His other two stallions aren’t black so they can’t be used. Which just leaves Fabian.”

  “Aye, but wot about his colouring faults?”

  “Just a quirk, probably, from several generations back.” Nick dried his hands on the towel Gibson passed to him. “If Fabian’s been performing Shalimar’s duties for two years and no one’s complained about the prodigy, Woodley must think he’s in the clear.”

  “Wanting you to purchase that other stallion now makes sense too.”

  “Everything does. Including the fact that Woodley dismissed some of the longest-serving grooms at the time the virus struck, claiming the need to economise.”

  “It’s all very well, but how’re we gonna prove it to Miss Woodley’s satisfaction? She won’t wanna believe that her uncle’s capable of such a wicked deception.”

  “Indeed she won’t. We’ll have to think of a way to convince her. The first thing we need to do is find out when Shalimar’s next due to perform his duties.”

  “I thought it strange that he hasn’t been in action since we’ve been here. I gather a couple of mares arrived just before we did. Presumably Woodley thinks we’ll be leaving the day after tomorrow. That’s always been our plan. The mares’ll probably be covered as soon as we’re not here to stick our noses in.”

  “That’s my expectation too.”

  “He must be in quite a panic if the mares are ready and he thinks we’ll not be leaving until his man turns up with the books.”

  “Oh, that delay has been quite deliberate. He was hoping that with time on my hands I’d solve all his problems by falling for his silly daughter. But I’m willing to bet the duchy on the fact that the books will turn up tomorrow.”

  “Most likely. And I dare say they’ll look straight. What then?”

  Nick pulled his nightshirt over his head. “I need to discuss this with Alicia first but I think I have a plan.”

  “More meetings with the chit.” Gibson smirked. “I can’t imagine wot you two find to talk about.”

  “I’ve warned her that she ought to remain in her chamber tomorrow and not ride her horse, but I very much doubt if she’ll take any notice. That being the case, we ought to be there to meet her at dawn.”

  “Sure I won’t be in the way?”

  Nick threw one of his boots at Gibson and dismissed him.

  Alicia shut the door behind Nick and leaned against it, feeling dazed yet euphoric. She closed her eyes and sighed, reluctant to move from the spot where he’d last kissed her. It took her a moment to realise that soft voices were coming from the corridor. Panic overtook her. Surely he’d not been found out. She cautiously opened the door a fraction in order to be able to hear better. God’s teeth, if her uncle were to have somehow got wind of Nick’s visit to her bedchamber, then all hell would break loose.

  But no, it was all right. Relief flooded through her. It was only Mr. Gibson’s voice she could hear. Nick must have set him to guard the corridor, just as he’d recruited Janet to perform the same duty outside the conservatory earlier. It took a moment for the essence of their conversation to penetrate her befuddled brain. When it did, she slammed the door and threw herself on the bed in a state of extreme mortification. The sheets bore a lingering scent of Nick’s body, bringing home to her the full implications of her reckless actions.

  The sound of Mr. Gibson’s gruff voice congratulating his master on a satisfactory outcome rang in her ears, and Alicia was unable to delude herself. She was aware now why Nick had gone to so much trouble to single her out. If she hadn’t been so easily seduced by his attentions, then it would have been obvious from the outset. Nick wasn’t really interested in her. He’d merely bedded her in order to win a wager with Mr. Gibson.

  A virulent anger coursed through her that made her want to hurl things at the wall, pretending it was Nick’s head. Only as she calmed down did she wonder why the discovery should disquiet her so much. He’d warned her all along what his intentions were and had promised not to force himself upon her. No more had he. He’d come here tonight, concerned only for her welfare. It was she who’d insisted upon taking matters further. Besides, even if his actions weren’t the result of a wager, hadn’t she always known their relationship would be the most transitory of affairs? He’d be gone from here in a day or two and she’d never see him again. She’d managed quite well before she knew him and would be herself again as soon as he left.

  Unfortunately their liaison had affected her profoundly, and she wouldn’t be able to dismiss it from her mind as easily as he would. So where did that leave her? The only answer that sprang to mind was to take the coward’s way out and avoid him as much as she could until he left Ravenswing Manor. She thumped her pillows and closed her eyes, determined to salve what was left of her pride by sticking to that resolve. It was only a couple of hours until dawn. As soon as it was light, she’d ride Fabian regardless of her injured shoulder and put the duke out of her mind once and for all.

  The sound of Janet moving quietly about the room woke her.

  “Morning, lamb, did you sleep well?”

  Oh, Janet, if only you knew. “Yes, thank you, Janet,” she responded, sitting up and stretching. “What hour is it?”

  “It’s a little after seven. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to
make sure you were all right.”

  “Heavens!” Alicia threw back the covers. “I’ve overslept. I must ride Fabian before my uncle is about. Hopefully he’ll be late up this morning, too, what with the party going on for so long.”

  “No, lamb, you can’t ride that hulking brute with an injured shoulder. Best stay in bed and rest.”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine, Janet. The doctor did say that the wound is not deep and that the bang to my head was more serious.” Her shoulder had withstood the rigours of her activities the previous night so she could trust Fabian not to exacerbate the injury.

  “That’s exactly why you shouldn’t go gallivanting off.”

  “Yes, upon reflection, perhaps it won’t harm to leave it for another day. Too many people will now be about, and my activities are bound to reach my uncle’s ears. I’ll turn him out to pasture instead. And, of course, I’ll call at the yard and visit the horses as usual.”

  “What happened to your face, lamb?”

  “My face, Janet?” She peered in a mirror and was horrified to discover that it was red raw. The rest of her face changed colour to match her chin as she desperately sought an explanation that would satisfy her maid. She could hardly tell Janet that Nick’s bristles were responsible. “Oh, I expect I slept awkwardly. The noise of the party kept me awake half the night. You have no idea. I was tossing and turning for hours.”

  Janet eyed the mess that was Alicia’s unmade bed. “Yes, love, I expect that’s what it must be.” And much to Alicia’s surprise, Janet busied herself with her duties, saying nothing more on the subject.

  Janet tutted with disapproval when Alicia refused to remain quietly in bed. She held out an old gown for her—one which she wouldn’t mind soiling in the stable yard—and she stepped into it.

  “There’s something you ought to know which arose from my discussion with His Grace last evening, Janet.”

  Alicia prepared her maid for a shock and then related all Nick had told her about her accident. Janet was so dumbfounded that she couldn’t utter a single word for a full two minutes. But when she regained the power of speech, questions poured from her lips in a breathless tumble.

  “Who could possibly wish you harm?” Janet sounded as bewildered as Alicia herself had felt when Nick had first revealed his suspicions.

  “That’s precisely my difficulty, Janet. I don’t have a clue.”

  “Well, whoever it is, if I could get my hands on the dastardly cowards, they’d soon get their comeuppance.” Her bosom swelled with majestic indignation.

  “Hush, Janet, there’s no cause for alarm. I don’t for a moment believe there’s anything in it. I just thought you ought to be aware. His Grace is insisting upon looking into the matter out of some sense of misguided responsibility, so there’s no need to distress yourself. If anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s him. I have complete faith in his abilities.”

  “Aye, lamb.” Janet’s eyes lingered on Alicia’s bed and her expression softened. “I saw that last night with my own eyes.”

  Alicia slipped from the house, pulling a thick shawl tight across her shoulders to protect herself from the sharp north wind. Her hair was tied back with a ribbon and over her arm she carried a basket of windfall apples.

  Somehow she wasn’t surprised to sense Nick’s presence as she approached the first row of loose boxes. Mr. Gibson was standing immediately behind him and Alicia thought that to be just as well. Now the time had come to face him again, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to maintain an aloof attitude if they were alone. He would demand to know what had brought it about, and she didn’t trust herself to withstand more of his quite disgustingly self-assured charm.

  “Good morning, Your Grace. Mr. Gibson.” She inclined her head toward them both but her tone was frosty.

  “Miss Woodley. I trust you feel a little better today.”

  “Thank you, yes. I slept very soundly and feel refreshed.” Not for the world would she reveal that what little sleep she’d managed had been a long time coming.

  “Breakfast?” Nick nodded at the basket of apples.

  “Windfalls the gardeners collect in the orchard. Matilda, you see, she rather expects to be waited upon.”

  The appearance of the cob’s head over her half-door, accompanied by a soft whinny, rendered further explanation unnecessary.

  “Save one for Fabian.”

  “Since I’m not riding today, it would be better not to disturb the stallions. I’ll have Will turn him out so he can stretch his legs in one of the paddocks.”

  “Actually, it’s Fabian that I wish to discuss with you.”

  Nick steered her into the tack room. It was vacant at this early hour and afforded them some protection from the elements. Succinctly he outlined the astonishing conclusions he and Mr. Gibson had reached regarding Fabian’s crucial role in the workings of the stud. When he ran out of words, Alicia’s head was spinning. She felt the colour drain from her face as the full impact of his theory struck home. It supplied a believable reason why her cousin had offered for her and why someone might wish her dead. But were she to accept it, she must also accept that her uncle arranged for her to be attacked.

  “Are you all right, Miss Woodley? I realise my suspicions must have shaken you, but you don’t look at all the thing. Should I send Gibson to fetch your maid?”

  “No, no.” She brushed her hand across her brow and took several deep calming breaths. Nick moved to sit beside her. Mindless of Mr. Gibson’s presence, he took her hand and rubbed it briskly between his own. “I’m perfectly well. Your speculations have come as a bit of a shock, that’s all. I comprehend your logic but don’t see how Fabian could have been used for so long without my knowledge.”

  “When do the coverings take place?”

  “When the mares are fully receptive, obviously.” She felt her earlier pallor being replaced by yet another fiery blush.

  “I meant at what time of the day, Miss Woodley.” A mocking smile hovered about his lips.

  “Oh, I see.” Her blush spread to the tips of her ears. Nick’s smile developed into a teasing grin. She’d been able to speak about these matters with professional detachment whilst involved with the stud, but Nick’s primitive expression reminded her a little too graphically of last night for her comfort. “Usually during the course of the morning.”

  “When you are engaged with your duties at the village school?”

  “Well, yes, but I’d still know.”

  “How?”

  “Well, the grooms. They talk.”

  “The men your uncle dismissed, Miss Woodley. What were their duties?”

  She nodded with reluctant comprehension. “They worked in the covering barn.”

  “Well, there you are then. And the new men employed to replace them are totally loyal to your uncle. I gather that no one who doesn’t work in the covering barn is permitted to observe the activities there.”

  “Yes, but that’s normal. Only people Shalimar knows handle him at such times, to prevent distracting him.”

  “Quite. It’s all too easy for a rampant stallion to become distracted at such a vital moment. Only think how disastrous that could be.”

  Alicia tossed the hair over her shoulder. “I dare say you’re an authority on the subject, Your Grace.”

  They locked gazes. She was damned if she’d be the first to look away and prepared herself to stare him out. Only when Mr. Gibson cleared his throat loudly did she appreciate how peculiar her behaviour must seem to him and finally dropped her eyes.

  “If I’m right, it must have been relatively easy for your uncle to keep his secret.”

  “Yes, I suppose so, but I feel foolish for not suspecting anything. It seemed plausible enough when he dismissed those men, and I didn’t question his decision.” She lifted her shoulders. “What with the virus meaning we had to turn mares away for the whole season, economies had to be made.”

  “Quite so.” Nick paused. “And I believe there are mares here at present waiti
ng to be introduced to Shalimar. Or should I say Fabian.”

  “Yes, it’s interesting that you should mention that.”

  “Is there something on your mind, Miss Woodley?”

  “Well, it’s just that I overheard one of the grooms advising my uncle yesterday that the mares were ready. Once they give the word, Shalimar is usually called upon immediately. But my uncle told them to leave it for another day.” She lifted her eyes to Nick’s, frowning. “Why would he have done that?”

  “Because he thinks we’re leaving in the morning and doesn’t wish us to be a party to the covering. Well, Gibson, shall we oblige him?”

  “You’re leaving?” Alicia could have kicked herself for the note of dismay that crept into her tone.

  “We’ll give every appearance of doing so straight after breakfast. And you ought to go to the village school as usual, if your health permits it. We’ll meet there and come back here via the back lanes to see what’s what.”

  “Yes, I wouldn’t wish to confront my uncle with these allegations unless I have absolute proof of their validity.”

  “And I wouldn’t ask it of you.”

  “This is all very distressing.” She swiped a hand across her brow. “My uncle has been good to me in many ways. I must think carefully before suggesting that he’s behaved dishonourably for fear of oversetting my aunt. She doesn’t enjoy good health, you understand.”

  “I understand perfectly. Don’t upset yourself with unnecessary explanations.”

  “We’ll need to use your carriage horses in order to reach the barn.” Alicia tore her eyes away from Nick’s, endeavouring to concentrate on the business in hand. In spite of the seriousness of his allegations, when he was sitting this close to her it was damnably difficult to think about anything other than their activities of the previous evening. She suspected, from the mischievous glint in his eyes, that his mind was similarly occupied. “It’s too far to travel on foot and the paths are too narrow even for a gig.”

  “No, we can’t use my horses. They would stand out. But there’s an inn we can put up at and I dare say we can hire more suitable nags there.”