As the Duke of Aversley stared at the passing countryside three day’s later, he took his wife’s hand in his, interlaced their fingers, and brought her smaller hand to his chest. “I don’t think I’ll be able to find the right words to tell Scarsdale’s wife that he’s missing.”
Amelia laid her cheek on his shoulder and offered the comfort only she could. “You will. He’d find the words to tell me.”
“But he knows you. I don’t even know this woman. We’ve never met her, and I told you―”
Amelia pressed a finger to his lips as she raised her head and looked at him. “He married this woman out of pity. Yes, I know what you said. Yet, I still find it hard to believe. Darling, whyever he married her, she is his wife, and therefore, we will be her friends. You told me yourself that he wanted me to help her.”
Colin sighed. He wished to the devil that he’d not gone home the night he saw Scarsdale at White’s and told Amelia that he had requested her aid. That conversation was the reason they were riding behind Ellison and Lady Anthony on the road to Lincolnshire. He’d thought it proper that the aunt or cousin inform Scarsdale’s wife that her husband was missing, but Amelia had insisted she must go, too, and so must he.
Disagreeing with his wife made him unhappy, so he made it a habit to avoid it whenever possible. Besides that, Amelia had made a very good point. Though Scarsdale’s cousin was a good enough chap, Scarsdale’s aunt was a harridan. Colin wouldn’t put it past her to bully, belittle, and otherwise make the new duchess’s life hell as she waited for news of whether Scarsdale was alive or not. And if he wasn’t... Colin refused to acknowledge the possibility.
So here they were. It was going to be bloody awkward not knowing the chit, but they would aid Scarsdale’s wife, bloody awkward or not.
“Darling, when do you think the Bow Street Runners will have news?”
Colin shook his head. “I don’t know. But I hired a private investigator, Sir Richard, as well. Do you know, the odd thing is, when I spoke to him he told me he had several messages from Nathan requesting an appointment to see him, but he had only just arrived back in London the day I went to see him.”
“That is odd,” Amelia murmured, her brow puckering. “And Scarsdale never mentioned anything?”
Colin shook his head. “You know how private Scarsdale is. I didn’t even know he was married until Ellison told me, and Ellison only knew because Scarsdale asked his aunt to be a witness. At first I couldn’t see why he’d ask her over me or Harthorne”―Colin grinned, ruefully―“but then it occurred to me he likely thought it would be the perfect way to keep tongues from wagging that his family was not supportive of his marriage.”
Amelia tilted her head in obvious thought. “Why did you hire a private investigator when Ellison already spoke with Bow Street?”
“Because I don’t think the runners will be sufficient to ferret out the truth. My gut tells me time is of the essence. Press gangs roam those docks, and if Scarsdale got pressed into service accidentally―” Colin clenched and unclenched his fingers around his wife’s before raising her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles “―it could be very bad. Many of those men never make it out alive.”
“He will,” Amelia insisted, displaying one of the characteristics he loved most about her. She had unshakable faith in those she cared about, and though it sometimes made Colin ridiculously jealous, Scarsdale had earned Amelia’s faith when he had helped her try to win Colin’s love. The memory of what an ass Colin been to Amelia made him tense.
Amelia frowned, as if sensing his discomfort. “What is it? You don’t agree?”
Colin thought about her insistence that Scarsdale would come out alive. “If Scarsdale loved his wife the way I love you, I’d say I agree. I would cross oceans and endure hell to make my way back to you. But for a man who doesn’t have anyone to fight for...” Colin let his words trail off. It suddenly hit him hard that he may never see Scarsdale again. His chest tightened. “No one seems to know anything. So many of the ships that were there that day have already shipped out, so if anyone saw anything, he is likely gone.”
“We are here,” Amelia whispered.
Colin blinked. He’d been staring out the window, but he’d not even noticed that the carriage had turned onto the long, winding drive of Scarsdale’s favorite country home, Whitecliffe. “Do you think she’ll create a scene when she learns Scarsdale is missing?”
“I certainly hope so,” Amelia replied.
“You do?” He didn’t bother to try to disguise his surprise. Amelia knew him too well.
“Certainly.” She pulled on her gloves before elaborating. “Then I’ll know whether she loves him or not. If she doesn’t have much of a reaction, then I doubt she loves him.”
As the carriage slowed to a stop, Colin put his hat on his head. “I, for one, hope she doesn’t create a scene.”
“Whyever not?”
“Because he doesn’t love her. And whether he comes back or not, it will be better for her if she doesn’t love him.”
“Men!” Amelia exclaimed, drew off her glove, and smacked him on the head with it. “You told me he became rather vicious with his cousin when the man called her a wench.”
“What does that matter?” Colin demanded as the carriage dipped with the loss of the coachman’s weight. Within seconds, the door was opened and the steps let down. Colin held out his hand to his wife. “Shall we?”
Amelia answered with a mutinous glare. “It matters,” she hissed under her breath.
“I don’t see how,” he grumbled back.
“Because.” She leaned close to him and said under her breath, “It means he cares about her.”
Colin snorted. “It means he doesn’t want his wife disparaged because it makes him appear the fool. That is all it means. You don’t know Scarsdale as well as I do. His mother belittled him at every turn. He’d never stand for someone doing that to another.”
“I suppose you might be correct,” Amelia said on a sigh. “It’s much nicer to think they may be in love, though.”
“I know it is, darling.” Some things were not worth the fight disagreeing might cause.
Once everyone was inside, the butler informed them that Scarsdale’s wife was out having her riding lesson.
“What do you mean she’s having a riding lesson?” Lady Anthony demanded.
“I believe the man means the duchess is sitting on a horse learning how to ride it,” Colin replied, unable to resist prickling Scarsdale’s irksome aunt. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Amelia scowl at him and Ellison fighting a smile.
Lady Anthony pinched her lips together, and for a brief moment, he thought she may stay blessedly silent, but then she said in a shrewish voice, “That woman should not be on a horse.”
Amelia stiffened beside Colin. It took a lot to anger his wife, but woe to the man or woman who did. Colin barely held in an amused chuckle as Amelia stepped around him and faced Lady Ellison. “That woman, as you so ineloquently put it, is your nephew’s wife and the Duchess of Scarsdale. And why should she not be on a horse?”
“Well, what if she’s with child? She could be carrying a boy, and obviously, he would be the next duke.”
Colin frowned. “You talk as if Scarsdale is dead. He is missing. Not dead.”
Lady Anthony’s mouth gaped open. Ellison took her by the elbow and waved a hand in the air. “Mother is overly distraught. Forgive her. She, um, that is, we both believe Scarsdale will be found alive. We pray for it. Don’t we, Mother?”
“Yes. Of course we do.”
Colin stared at her. The woman said the right words but she sounded like a wooden puppet. He forced a smile he didn’t feel. The alternative was shaking the woman to see if she would crack, and that seemed extreme for now. “I’m sure the duchess will take every precaution if she is with child.”
“Of course, you’re right,” Lady Anthony murmured as she turned toward the butler, but even with her back to Colin, he caught a snatch of her g
rumblings, which had to do with the mockery that would befall them all if that common woman bore a son who was to be the next duke.
He curled his hands into fists and opened his mouth to flay her, but Amelia came to his side and shook her head. She was right. Arguing with Lady Anthony would not help. “Where might we find the duchess?” he asked the butler.
“She’s riding in the east fields with the stable master, Mr. Burk.”
“Very good.” Colin held his elbow out for his wife. “Shall we?”
The wind whipped Sophia’s hair across her cheekbones as she hovered over her horse as Mr. Burk had taught her. They raced side by side to the finish line near the trees. At the very last moment, she whispered in Aphrodite’s ear and the horse sped up. The cold hitting her face caused tears to leak from her eyes, but she still crossed the line two strides in front of Mr. Burk. She slowed her horse to a stop and threw up her arms in an unladylike victory celebration.
Mr. Burk, grinning from ear to ear, guided his horse beside hers, and the two beasts panted in unison.
“I bested you!” she exclaimed.
“That ye did. His Grace is going ta be shocked when he sees ye.”
“Do you think I could best him?”
Mr. Burk chuckled again. “Not yet, Yer Grace. Yer husband is the best rider I’ve ever seen. Everyone used ta say so, except his mother.
“What did she say?”
Mr. Burk made a scornful sound. “’Twas plain that she dinnot like the fact that he could outride her.”
“Oh my.” Sophia swallowed the lump that had lodged in her throat. “Did he know how she felt?”
“Hard not to. She took ta pointing out everything she thought he did wrong. He was a good boy with a hard life. Ta look at all the grandeur at his wee fingertips some would disagree, but what’s all the money in the world nary love?”
Sophia sniffed back tears, and she sensed his discomfort when Mr. Burk looked away. But she was grateful for every bit of knowledge she had garnered about Nathan. Every day she’d learned something new that convinced her that Nathan was simply afraid to love because of how his mother had treated him. She sniffed again at the thought as she glanced across the wide, open expanse of land. In the distance, a coach, and what appeared to be a curricle, came to a halt near a row of trees. It was hard to tell from her position if it was Nathan’s curricle, but all the same, her heart leaped. “Nathan’s back, I think! And by the looks of it, he’s with company!”
“Do ye care ta show him what ye’ve learned?”
“I cannot think of a better way for him to find out than my besting you in another race,” she challenged.
He nodded, and together they counted and took off when they hit three. They flew neck and neck across the land. The wind once again whipped Sophia’s hair and stung her face, while exhilaration and anticipation filled her body. She couldn’t wait to see Nathan’s face!
She crossed the finish line a half-stride ahead of Mr. Burk. Whooping out a victory cheer, she pulled up on her reins and turned her horse toward the tree by which the two coaches were parked. Disappointment filled her that it wasn’t Nathan’s curricle. As everyone descended from the carriages, her heart squeezed. Nathan wasn’t among the group, but his aunt was, and three people Sophia had never met. Lady Anthony stared at her agape.
Gritting her teeth, Sophia dismounted her horse and led her toward the group. As she neared them and took in the faces of the handsome man with dark-blond hair and observant hazel eyes and the woman holding his elbow, who had mounds of gold-spun hair that hung in luxurious waves down her back, acute self-consciousness attacked Sophia. She immediately raised her hand to her short hair and frowned at the wild disarray it seemed to be in. Beside the woman stood Lady Anthony and a man leaning on a cane.
“Hello, Lady Anthony,” she said. “We weren’t expecting you. Nathan isn’t here. Did you not see him in London?”
The woman pursed her lips and stared for a long moment before answering. “He did not deign to visit me.”
“Now, Mother,” the chubby man beside her said in a scolding tone. This had to be Nathan’s cousin. She was about to introduce herself when he spoke again. “He was there on business and only in town one night before...” His words trailed off, and he glanced quickly at Sophia and then to the golden-haired man who stood scowling beside him. The woman—who appeared to be the epitome of grace and loveliness, of course—paled to a whiteness that matched the clouds as she looked at Sophia. Something deep within her gut clenched and her heart constricted.
Something was wrong. She couldn’t say why she thought so, but she knew it to be true. She fisted her hands at her sides and stared at each of these strangers in turn―because really, Nathan’s aunt was unknown to her, as well. She drew herself to her full height, which was diminutive compared to everyone in this group. “Before we get on with why you’re here, perhaps Lady Anthony could introduce us.”
She speared the older woman with a prompting look, and Lady Anthony let out a long sigh, as if she’d just been tasked with the most tedious chore of her life. She stepped forward and swept a hand at the man at her side. He gave an awkward bow that showed he favored his right leg. When he came up, he shoved back a thick lock of blond hair that had fallen over his brown eyes. He smiled and two dimples appeared in his plump cheeks. “I’m Hughbert Ellison, Scarsdale’s cousin.”
Sophia stared at him for a long moment. He looked vaguely familiar. “Have we met?”
His eyes widened. “Yes,” he mumbled. “Yes, we have. I wasn’t going to mention it unless you did, because I wasn’t sure...” He shifted his weight awkwardly from his good leg to his cane. His knuckles curled tightly around the top of the cane and turned white. Sophia dragged her gaze back to his face, ashamed she had been staring. Around her, the group was silent.
Then the memory of when she’d met Mr. Ellison hit her, and she gasped. “You were lost and I gave you directions!”
“That’s right,” he nodded.
Sophia recalled it all now. “How funny! I told Nathan about you when he was lost. He said if I’d just directed him where to turn to find Mr. Bantry’s he could have. He was so pompous about it.” She laughed at the memory. “And I recalled you and told him how―” She caught sight of the deep flush that had crept up Mr. Ellison’s cheeks, and she halted her words. How unthinking of her to retell a story that painted the man as a fool. No one here need know what had happened. She took a deep breath. “I told him he likely would have found it, since you had, and was sorry I’d insisted on taking him to Mr. Bantry’s myself because I’d delayed him. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been shot.”
“Shot?” the beautiful woman exclaimed. “When was Scarsdale shot?”
Sophia wished she had kept her mouth shut. She was going to have to explain it all now. Maybe Nathan didn’t want everyone to know. Before she could speak, Mr. Ellison stepped near her and gave her a reassuring smile. “Scarsdale was shot on the road between the duchess’s father’s pub and the horse trainer he was searching for. Likely it was thieves after some jewels.”
Sophia shook her head. “No. They were trying to―”
“Enough!” Lady Anthony snapped. “Neither the Duchess of Aversley nor her husband has time to stand around and listen to fanciful tales. We’ve come to tell you that Scarsdale is missing.”
“What?” Surely, she could not have heard correctly.
“He is missing,” the woman snapped.
“Oh, do be quiet!” the Duchess of Aversley snapped herself. “Can you not see you’ve given her a shock?”
Was she shocked? Sophia knitted her brows, trying to make her mind answer the question. The ground did seem to be swaying. She reached out to grab something to steady herself and Mr. Burk was there suddenly, like a solid, immovable tree. He gripped her elbow. “Are ye all right, Yer Grace?”
She nodded, studying the four faces around her. Three held lines of concern, and one, Nathan’s aunt, held annoyance. Sophia wet her lips and force
d her throat to work, despite the fact that she was sure it wouldn’t since her heart had lodged itself there. “How long?” Was she whispering? She cleared her throat and tried again. “Where was he last seen? Is anything known?”
Lady Anthony rattled out another long, annoyed sigh. “Let us have this conversation back at the house. It’s entirely too cold to stand around outside explaining it all.” She turned on her heel and the word No shattered the brief silence.
Sophia couldn’t say how long she stood there, not realizing she’d been the one to screech, but after the blood that was roaring in her ears abated, coherent thought returned. Her heart still slammed unmercifully against her ribs, but she looked around the group and acknowledged mixed expressions of horror and shock leveled at her. She had screamed. She should be embarrassed, but in this moment, she didn’t care. A league of horses could not drag her back inside until she had all the information they did about what had happened to Nathan.
His aunt sucked in a deep breath that made Sophia stiffen. “How dare you―”
“Cease talking,” Sophia ground out, not caring that she was being rude and unladylike. “Which one of you can tell me what happened?”
The handsome man, who she could only assume to be the Duke of Aversley, stepped forward, bringing his wife with him. She came to Sophia’s side and took her hand. “No one knows for sure.”
“The Bow Street Runners are on the case,” Mr. Ellison added.
“I’ve hired a private investigator, as well,” the duke supplied.
“When did he disappear?” Sophia’s voice was gravelly, and the ground was doing that funny tilting thing again.
“The night after he came back to London,” the duke said. “His curricle was at the docks, so we know he’d been there.” The duke stopped talking and glanced to his wife, who nodded. He swiped a hand across his face. “It seems he never left, however.”
She hadn’t known she’d grown to love Nathan so much until this moment. Sophia’s heart splintered as sure as if it were made of china and someone had bashed it with an enormous piece of wood. She sucked in a sharp breath and squeezed her eyes shut on a wave of piercing, nauseating pain. A hand came to her elbow again, and Sophia forced herself to open her eyes. The Duke of Aversley gripped her. “Are you all right, Duchess?”
My Seductive Innocent Page 22
